Shifting Impressions
by ShouldIGetOutandPush
Summary: A series of interactions between Han and Leia that chronicle their relationship between ANH and ESB. *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter One  The Best Medicine

Shifting Impressions

Chapter One: The Best Medicine

Princess Leia Organa found herself caught in a rainstorm. As her tiny foot splashed into a deep puddle, she cursed under her breath. Her white gown turning brown along the edges as the wet fabric stretched hungrily towards the street, the filth crawling up like kaffe spilling upwards. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering.

Her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed into determined slits as she studied each closed door and shook her head as she passed every boarded window. She looked a sight, with her dress and her long, unbound hair clinging to her all too familiarly. She stopped suddenly, stiffened her back and slowly looked behind her. Facing forward again, she let out a deep breath that disengaged the rain drops resting on her lips, letting them tumble towards the street to join their comrades.

She began to walk again.

A long, high-pitched siren wailed in the distance and the princess's head lurched towards the direction of this new sound. Her pace quickened as she turned to abandon the high ground of the street and splashed onto the low lying sidewalk. In her wake she left a small entourage of waves that lapped up against the closed doors as if knocking to get inside. Grabbing the fabric of her dress, she raised it to mid-calf as she walked through the ankle deep water. She wondered when she had lost her shoes.

It was so dark and the rain fell in sheets; she hoped she would recognize the place when she got there. The street looked monochromatic, all blacks and grays and the siren grew louder, but she pressed on. The rain drops beat down on her head and her shoulders and an occasional burst of wind would drive it sideways and pelt her back or her stomach causing her to shiver. She wished she was home in her bed by a warm fire with a book. The thought temporarily warmed her but a stiff wind came along and blew it out like a candle.

Her legs stopped moving as her eyes landed on a red door, all inviting and open. Inside she could see the dancing shadows of a raging fire and her breath caught in her throat. Crossing the street she began to walk towards it, wincing at the deafening sound of the siren. She blinked furiously as the rain came down with a renewed ferocity and her eyes stung from the cold, wet wind slapping her face. She brought her hand up to her cheek and felt it with the backs of her fingers, like her mother used to do. She dropped her hand and clutched her stomach, suddenly feeling sick.

The street began to spin like a top and she stumbled sideways towards the red door until she ended up clinging to a small support beam that ran up to the roof. Resting her head against the wooden beam she took her hands and held them tightly against her ears. Her eyes moved toward the door but stopped before they reached their destination. She dropped her hands down to her sides and her mouth fell open as she looked nervously up and down the street.

She saw the siren.

There in the street in front of the opened red door, was a baby lying on the ground in the rain and filth crying and choking as the deluge poured into its open mouth. Walking over towards it, Leia bent down and scooped it up in her trembling arms, hugging it to her chest.

The siren wouldn't stop. Leia cooed in its ear and patted its back, but the baby could not be soothed. She brought it down to cradle it in her arms. Her movements were slow, deliberate and awkward. This is very different than holding a doll, she thought. Leia smiled and spoke calmly and smoothly to the infant, using the voice she perfected on the Senate floor. The baby sputtered and coughed; its arms and legs flailing about as it screamed louder.

Leia's eyes slammed shut as she tilted her head back, took a deep breath and tried to calm her thoughts. Finally, opening her eyes and slowly looking back down at the baby, she gasped. There was blood all over its face. Frantically turning the baby over and running her hands along its small body, she searched unsuccessfully for some sort of wound.

Soon the baby was the color of the door.

Leia looked down at her once white gown and discovered she too was the color of blood. Her eyes slowly rose to scan the street and the puddles and the filth, only to find they all were now tinged scarlet. She shook her head violently back and forth and furrowed her brow. Looking up towards the heavens, she noticed that the sheets of rain had turned from gray to red. Lowering her eyes back towards the baby in her arms, Leia found its eyes were pools of red.

She screamed but nothing came out.

The baby's siren cry wailed on.

And then Leia woke up.

She was in her quarters aboard _Home One,_ the Alliance's Headquarters Frigate. Her bunk was drenched in sweat. Placing the backs of her fingers to her cheek as she had done in her dream, Leia's hand felt like ice against her hot skin. She threw her covers off, walked to her small kitchenette and poured a glass of water, closing her eyes and gulping it greedily. The cool liquid blazed an icy path down her throat and as it coalesced in her stomach, a chill zipped up her spine. Her shoulders shivered as she set the empty glass down on the counter.

Several bottles of pills sat on the counter, all with her name hastily written on the labels. Painkillers, nerve pills, sedatives and whatever else one needed to recover from the very worst days of their lives. It had been six weeks since her internment on the Death Star and everything that went with that. The smell of her untouched soup from the night before made her stomach rumble. She wished she had a bowl of Winter's "feel better" soup. It was the best in the galaxy. Leia picked up the untouched bowl, dumped out its contents and put the small dish in the sanitizer.

She poured herself another glass of water and held the glass out in front of her. The water sloshed inside as she fought to steady her trembling hand. Placing the glass on the counter she looked down at the pills.

_I can do this,_ she thought as she closed her eyes and steadied herself with her hands. They felt warm against the cool kitchen counter. Standing up straight, she opened her eyes, lifted her hands away and watched her phantom prints slowly dissipate. First her fingers and thumbs, then her palms, then only small dots remained. And then they were gone.

Feeling a twinge of pain shoot up her side, she grabbed the pain meds and twisted the cap open, pouring the little white pills into her hand. She squeezed her hand into a fist, digging her fingernails into her flesh and crushing the pills inside her sweaty palm. Her eyes slammed shut.

Her first two weeks were spent between the med center and debriefings with High Command. There was no evidence that she was forced to witness the destruction of Alderaan. There was no physical evidence that Vader had personally interrogated her. No physical evidence… Leia's eyes flew open. She shook her head.

Unclenching her fists, she looked at the pills in her hand. Holding her hand out over the basin and tilting it sideways, she watched the pills tumble off of her palm and fall into the metal sink. They made noises as they fell and Leia's head pounded with each metallic ping. They bounced and rolled around until they finally came to a stop.

She did the same with the pink nerve pills.

And the capsules that were supposed to help her "cope".

When she turned on the water she watched the pills swirl around several times and disappear.

Turning to the empty bottles lined up on the counter, she took her hand and with one sweeping motion slid them all off of the counter and down onto the floor. The hollow sounds they made echoed through her tiny galley and she held her hands up to her ears to try and quell the pain.

She fell to her knees and stretched her body out on the galley floor. Pressing her cheek to the cool tile she closed her eyes. Maybe her nightmares wouldn't follow her here.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she realized she must've fallen asleep. Pushing herself up to a sitting position, shooting pains traveled up her sides and shot through her arms. A twinge in her neck caused her to wince and her side hurt from her bruised ribs. Her mind had rested peacefully on the galley floor. It seemed her nightmares had not found her there, but her body had paid the price.

She preferred the physical pain over the mental.

Forcing her body to obey her, she stood and studied the scene at her feet, temporarily mystified. Empty medicine bottles and their matching lids were strewn about on the floor, and then it slowly came back to her. Against all better judgment, Leia bent down and began to scoop up the bottles and throw them away. Stars danced in front of her eyes as her body once again protested violently to her request for movement.

She walked over to the brewing station and set the kaffe to brew. Returning to her bunk area, she opened her trunk and began to dress. Her eyes fell on the fading bruises dappled on her upper arms. No longer the color of ripe, purple plums, they had turned a sick, rotten green. She wondered if the mind healed the same as the body and if so, just what color her brain was right now.

As she slipped her boots on she heard the kaffe machine chime. Walking back into the galley, she poured herself some kaffe and took two large gulps before setting the mug back down on the counter.

She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. She thought her fever might have broken.

Leaving her quarters, she headed left towards the offices of High Command. Leia paused at the entrance of General Rieekan's office, ran her hand quickly through her hair and then walked inside. He was sitting at his desk and his eyes rose to meet hers as she approached him. His office smelled like cigars and men's cologne. Nodding her head, she simply said, "General."

"Princess, please have seat."

A fellow Alderaanian, General Carlist Rieekan had been a close friend of Leia's father and had known the Princess nearly her entire life. She respected him as a man and an officer and in the last couple of weeks had begun to regard him as a friend.

"Thank you, General," Leia replied as she lowered herself into one of his guest chairs.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"I'm not asking as a General, you know."

"I know and _I'm fine_, really." Leia's throat tightened as she squirmed in her seat.

"Are you taking your meds?"

She hesitated as she looked at the older man guiltily. Feeling as though she had just been caught smoking behind the palace fence, she replied, "I think I've taken them long enough."

"Is that a no?"

"I hear we've secured a new base location."

The General relaxed back into his chair, steepled his fingers together and sighed as he said, "You're changing the subject."

"I know," Leia replied steely and for a long moment the two merely stared at each other in a kind of standoff. Leia noticed new lines on the General's face.

He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desk. Clasping his hands together, he asked, "Are you seeing Dr. Paque?"

"I've been released."

"It helps to talk about it."

"I did nothing but talk about it for two straight weeks."

"A military debrief does not constitute-"

"I'll be late for a meeting with my operatives."

Once again the General stared at her. Finally, he responded, "You've been at your post with the supply crew for a month now," he paused and then added, "I'm due to submit my recommendation on your performance and overall…competence."

She did not say a word.

The general looked at her with sympathy and understanding in his gentle eyes. She held her breath as he held her mental well-being in his hands. Turning to his holoscreen, he began typing something. Try as she might, she could not read his screen from the angle at which she sat. As she watched his hands punch the buttons on the terminal, the light reflecting off of his wedding ring caught her eye. She wondered who he talked to.

He looked back at Leia and rubbed his hand over his mouth while he studied her. She let her eyes drop down to her hands in her lap, unable to meet his eyes any longer. "Report to your meeting, Your Highness."

Leia's eyes shot up and met the general's. She sprang up from her seat and said, "Thank you." It was a thank you that someone would say to a stranger that returns a lost child. Her eyes became glassy and she bit her bottom lip.

"Are you sure you're alright, Leia?"

"I'm fine." Watching his eyes she was sure he suspected that she was lying, but he didn't say anything. "General," she said with a polite nod.

"Princess," he responded. And she turned around and left his office.

Leia left the General's office and made her way straight to the conference room just outside the main hangar bay. She was the first to arrive. The conference was round and the large table at its center mirrored the room's shape. Walking around the table, Leia sat at a chair facing the door and she began powering up her datapad and connecting it to the visual outlet in preparation for her meeting.

"You look like hell."

She looked up quickly in response to the voice. She hadn't heard anyone walk in. It was Han Solo. She hadn't seen him since the award ceremony on Yavin; he had gone on a supply run to the outer rim. He must've docked at the rendezvous last night when the fleet dropped out of hyper to reset their coordinates.

"Thank you for the compliment, Captain," she replied dryly and went back to her task.

"Sorry, I just…hadn't seen ya." He sat down at the table across from her and asked, "Are you alright?"

Leia was shaken by his reaction to her. _Do I really look that bad?_ No one else had said anything, of course; no one else would probably dare. She wondered if maybe it was because he hadn't seen her in several weeks, absence making slow, subtle changes seem more distinct.

Regardless, she had forgotten how inappropriate Han Solo could be and she responded coolly, "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Han didn't seem to know what else to say and as the other pilots began to shuffle in, their conversation ended there. Leia projected the schedule on the plotter board and began to divvy out the runs. She had to organize everything from how much cargo each ship could carry, to mapping out the easiest routes to how fast each ship could travel. Doing most of this work ahead of time, Leia usually had a preliminary schedule assigned before her pilots ever walked in the door.

The meeting was over quickly and Leia was making notes on her datapad when she heard a familiar voice.

"I got a problem."

She looked up at him. It was Han. Looking back down at her datapad, she said, "Only one?"

"I can't go to Tatooine," he said, ignoring her comment as he walked around the table towards her.

She looked back up at him, somewhat perturbed. Hadn't she just spent the last hour sorting all of this out? She shook her head in aggravation and said, "I know better than to inquire as to the reason. But may I ask why you didn't bring this up during the meeting, so that I could shuffle the assignments around then?"

He put his hand down on the table and leaned down towards her and lowering his voice he said, "I got a bounty on my head with a Hutt there and I don't feel like announcing that to a room full of outlaws."

"We are not _outlaws_, Captain. Everyone that was in this room has sworn their allegiance to the Alliance," she replied indignantly and then looking back down at her datapad, searching for Han's file, she added, "Except for _you_, I see."

"Look, I just want to trade the Tatooine assignment for something else. I don't feel like debating with you on what the definition of an insurgence is and I sure as hell don't want a recruitment speech," he responded as he stood up and raised his voice back to a normal conversational level.

Leia sighed and still studying her datapad, she offered, "You can trade with Tye Maartin. Tatooine for Iego." She looked up to him and added, "Do you know Tye?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect, track him down and make the trade and then I need both of you to message me when it's done so that I know for sure the communication has been made and nothing got dropped."

"Alright," Han replied and as Leia looked back down at her datapad she heard him say, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied without looking up. He was half way to the door when she looked up and called to him, "Oh, Captain Solo?"

"Yeah," he replied as he turned around to face her.

"Are there any other Hutts or entire populaces that are after you that I should know about?"

Leia noticed that this seemed to aggravate him, but she hadn't been trying to push his buttons.

"Look," he said as he walked back towards her in a huff, "I got one kriffin' planet that I'm asking not to be sent to, you don't have to go making a big deal about it. Besides, part of the reason I can't go back there is because the last time I left, I had to bust through an Imperial blockade carting your farmboy and that ancient general off of that rock."

The mention of Kenobi and the indirect reference to her rescue stung. Working on controlling her reaction, she replied, "Calm down. I didn't realize you were so sensitive, Captain. I'm only asking so that I can make a note of it in my files, I do so on all my runners. I don't usually send people to their home planets, for obvious reasons, or to a planet that might be hostile to their species. _Or_...where they might be wanted by any _Hutts_," looking down at her datapad she added, "The better my notes are the less shuffling around occurs during my meetings."

He didn't respond, so she looked back up at him and he seemed embarrassed by his gruffness. Leia bristled at his lack of restraint as she added haughtily, "Or _after_ my meetings have adjourned."

"I can go anywhere else you want to send me," he responded almost apologetically.

His sentiment didn't stop Leia from responding with a smirk, "Well, I will definitely make a note of _that_."

"Cute. Are you done?"

"Yes, and don't forget to message me when you are," she replied and then looking up from her datapad she watched him walk away. But as he neared the conference room door he stopped, spun around and looked at her. After a few quick moments of silence, Leia offered, "Remember another Hutt, Captain Solo?"

"What?" He replied and then seemed to relax a little as he added, "No. No, it's nothing like that." Taking a couple of steps back into the conference room he said, "Well, since we just landed last night we still have a galley full of fresh food."

Leia's stomach grumbled at the mere mixture of the words "fresh" and "food" in the same sentence. She wondered if Han could tell that she was salivating.

"Anyway, the kid already said he would come by for dinner and I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

She stared at him for a millisecond and then answered, "Yes, thank you," more quickly than she would have liked. Han only smiled.

"Okay. Just come by when you knock off then," he said as he turned around and walked out of the conference room.

* * *

Leia arrived at the _Falcon_ just in time to be served dinner by the ship's pilot and his Wookiee comrade. Luke was already seated when she entered the lounge and she squeezed in next to him after grabbing a plate. She hadn't been on the _Falcon _since her rescue and somehow the insides of the ship seemed different. There was no carbon smell from freshly used blasters for one thing. And it seemed Han _had_ gotten the smell of the garbage chute out of the upholstery even after his endless tirade that he never would. Leia thought better of mentioning it, though. Even the grime on the bulkheads seemed less revolting and the spacer's tape randomly holding pieces of the ship together appeared less haphazard than she remembered.

She inhaled her food practically without chewing it, abandoning years of ingrained etiquette. Graciously accepting an offer of seconds from Chewie, try as she might, she couldn't recall a more spectacular meal. Unable to understand Chewie's arguments, it seemed both smugglers wished to take credit for the cooking. Leia just enjoyed watching them fight like an old married couple. Luke seemed more capable of understanding the Wookiee and he interpreted as best as he could for her while trying to keep himself from getting caught in the fray.

By the end of the feast she felt as if she might pop. She wanted to unfasten the top button of her khakis, but she quickly thought better of it. Relaxing against the banquette she closed her eyes and listened to Han and Chewie argue over hyperdrive theorems, or at least that was her best guess from the one-sided conversation she was trying to follow. When the two smugglers seemed unable to agree, Luke broke in and suggested a friendly game of Sabacc. Immediately dropping their disagreement, the two spacers readily agreed and Leia found herself three rounds in before she could even try to think of a reasonable excuse to decline. But by that time, she was winning and she no longer wanted to leave.

"Where did you learn to play Sabacc?" Han questioned her curiously as he glanced down at his cards.

"My father and I used to play cards together," Leia responded. "He told me I was a natural."

"I can't imagine little Princess Leia playing cards with her father, the King," Han teased and Leia noticed his counterparts glaring a silent warning.

"My father wasn't a king," she replied and then added, "And anyway, he always taught me to never let my title define me."

There was a silence that settled around them after Leia spoke of her father. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Luke looked at Han and then Han looked at Chewie while Chewie was looking back at Han. Princess Leia just looked back down at her cards. _Does anyone feel comfortable around me?_

Han was the first to break the prolonged silence that followed when he cursed under his breath, "Sithspit!"

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Leia questioned teasingly.

"No, there's no problem."

"Isn't there a time limit on throwing a card, Chewbacca?" she smirked at the Wookiee and stole a glance at Luke.

Chewie howled something and banged his paw against the table, apparently trying to hurry the spacer along, or egg him on was probably more like it.

"Would you just shut up, I'm trying to think!"

"Oh, is _that_ what you're doing?" Luke chimed in and then added with a big smile, "Back on the farm we call that _losing_."

Han shot Luke a glare that could have peeled every piece of spacer's tape off of the _Falcon's_ hull, and then the group all looked at each other in turn and broke out into a fit of laughter. Chewie really got the group going as he slapped his knees and hooted and howled. Leia was sure that Wookiee laughter had to be the most contagious kind there was. It wasn't long until they were all doubled over in excruciating pain, as only belly busting hysterics can produce on a bunch of over-stuffed stomachs.

Princess Leia found the entire experience liberating and empowering. It was hard to know when it was finally alright to be happy when one is so mired in mourning. As she looked around the table at the unlikely crew that had rescued her from the Death Star that day, she let herself laugh some more, slowly releasing the rope that she had tightly wound around her. And as they all laughed, she let herself cry, just a little, inside.

Luke walked her back to her quarters and they giggled and talked the entire way. Once alone in her room, she threw herself down onto her bunk and fell right to sleep. When she woke in the morning she felt strange and as she sat up and tried to figure out why, it hit her very quickly.

For the first time in weeks, the nightmares hadn't come.


	2. Chapter Two  The Smuggler

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Two: The Smuggler

Han Solo contemplated his current financial situation. Apparently working these supply runs for the Rebellion was a practice in volunteering, or could maybe even cross the line into donating, since Han's credits seemed to be shrinking more than swelling under his recent career change. And even calling them supply runs humored the spacer because the label made them sound so above-the-board and legal, so run-of-the-mill and safe, when they were anything but. Han and Chewbacca had gotten shot at less when they were smuggling spice for Jabba the Hutt then now, while they smuggled medical supplies and food (and maybe the occasional load of illegal military-grade armaments) for the rag-tag rebels.

It had been almost four months since he had turned around that day to help Luke. To help Luke, not the Rebellion, he reminded himself. But then here he was, still a part of it, still running supplies and putting himself on the line for someone else's cause. He wondered when "just one more run" would finally mean exactly that.

Dragging his hand over his face, Han stuffed the credit chip back into his pocket. He decided to get this run over with and then really sit down and talk to Chewie about what they should do. Or better yet _tell_ the Wookiee what they were going to do. Someone had to think rationally between the two of them and it was looking more and more like that responsibility was resting squarely on Han's shoulders for once in their lengthy relationship. And although in their previous discussions, Chewie always seemed to agree amiably with whatever Han said, they always somehow ended up doing what the Wookiee wanted anyway. That was really getting to be aggravating.

Han got up and walked towards the cockpit to check their coordinates, they should be getting close to their first stop soon. This current mission was scheduled to take two weeks and it was the _Falcon's_ fourth or fifth assignment, Han was losing track – something he took as another bad sign.

The coordinates looked good, there was nothing to do but wait. He plopped down into his pilot's chair and watched the swirling vision of hyperspace. No matter where you were in the galaxy, no matter what time of day or year, what season – hyperspace always looked the same, he thought. Yet, Han couldn't recall anything that had evoked a more varied reaction from him during his life. Perhaps it was because hyperspace was the one constant in a life that was constantly changing.

Sometimes he looked out of the viewport and found answers in the streaks of stars and planets, asteroids and worm holes - things made sense, he found peace. Other times he felt small and confused by the spinning infinity set out before him, the enormity of it weighing on him and depressing him. Sometimes he felt a longing for the comfort of real space. Other times he relished the escape.

What did he feel today, he wondered.

Today, he thought, it made him feel anxious, as if he just wanted to finally arrive somewhere. As he looked out he wished he had made better choices in his life. That things were somehow different. He couldn't put his finger on exactly what. But Han had always lived his life never looking back, he certainly didn't want to start to do that now. He blinked his eyes as if trying to reset himself, like tripping a circuit to try to get the flow back on line.

It didn't work.

He stood up and turned his back to the viewport, yet he could still feel it bearing down on him. _Something's gotta give and it ain't gonna be me_, he told himself as he walked away from the cockpit.

Two weeks later they transmitted their clearance code and landed on the Rebel base. As soon as they touched down, Han fled the cockpit and bounded down the lowered gangway like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water. The walls of his ship had been closing in on him. He stepped on the planet's surface and took a deep breath.

It was a new base and there were new smells mixed in with the old familiar ones. New faces, mingling with old friends. Pilots in orange flight suits darted about, droids worked on a myriad of reconditioned ships, the smell of oil, sweat and grease wafted about as the ever familiar voice on the overhead announcements echoed against the hangar walls. The oxygen level on this planet must be near the limit, Han thought, as his head felt dizzy from the heavy mixture.

[Let's go check in.]

Chewie had come up behind him and Han watched as the Wookiee passed him up and walked on ahead, howling a couple of greetings as he lumbered through the crowd. Han followed reluctantly in his wake, nodding, waving and voicing his hellos along the way.

After they had checked in, they headed back to the _Falcon_ to await the supply crew that would unload the _Falcon's_ holds. After their previous runs, Princess Leia had always shown up with the crew to check inventory before it was transferred from the vessel to the warehouse. Han wondered if she would show today.

The supply crew arrived, unloaded the _Falcon_ and left. The princess never showed. Han asked around for Luke, but he was on a mission. Feeling restless, he commandeered a small mini kart and headed to the supply shed so that he could restock the _Falcon_.

On his way to the warehouse, Han caught sight of the Princess walking along the path in front of him. Now, he hadn't recognized her right away, being that she was wearing a skirt - which was unusual for her. But his brain registered that it was Leia pretty quick because, first of all, there weren't that many women on base and second of all, there was nobody as short as her stuffiness was.

The skirt she wore was a khaki, Alliance-issued, military-looking skirt, but a skirt none-the-less, and it hit her right below the knees so that Han could see that she actually had legs. He had been wondering, just in his spare time, what her legs might look like.

"Need a ride?" Han drawled out as he approached the female Rebel.

"Aren't those allocated for Alliance personnel only, Captain?" Leia quipped as she kept walking alongside of him without missing a beat.

Han was undeterred by her rebuff, his mind otherwise occupied by the nice view. He was glad to see that her appearance continued to improve as the months wore on and some very nice curves were developing as her weight got back to normal.

"As long as my ship keeps dodgin' blaster fire while ferrying your damn supplies around, then I think I can benefit from some _Alliance personnel perks_ every now and then," he shot back at her as he dodged said Alliance personnel with his mini-kart.

"I'm sure it's a lot more _now_ than then for you, Captain," she replied with her eyes glued forward.

"Well, I am somewhat of an opportunist-" he answered back, but was cut off when she stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around to face him. Quickly slamming on the brakes in response, the mini kart lurched to a stop with a loud screech.

Han turned his head to face the Princess and she was glaring at him with her arms folded across her chest as she huffed, "Are you just going to follow me around until you run somebody over? You don't even _know_ where I'm going, Captain, and I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't even know where you're going either!"

"Well, Your Highnessness, as a matter-of-fact I was headed to the supply warehouse and seeing that you are our resident _supply despot_, I thought maybe we might be heading in the same direction."

As soon as the words "supply warehouse" had come out of his mouth, he knew by the look on her face that he had her. So as he finished his sentence, he let his foot ease onto the accelerator and began to slowly drive the cart away. Having her climb up into the mini-kart with him was one thing, but having her Royal Highness chase him a little bit beforehand was quite another.

"Wait," she said, but not very loudly - not to his satisfaction anyway - so he kept going…_slowly_.

"Captain!"

She raised her voice this time, but he really wanted to see how far he could push her, so he continued.

"Oh, for krith's sake. Han!"

The first part she didn't say too loudly, but his name she yelled loud enough for people to look. He smiled - of course she couldn't see his face - and he wiped any remnants of it off before he pressed his foot on the brake and turned around to look at her.

Her face was flushed as she realized people were watching her uncharacteristic display; her eyes were wide with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She lowered her eyes as soon they found his and she seemed so…innocent, pure, and untouchable. Which – gods help him - only made him want to touch her more.

He watched as she stepped onto the kart and slid in beside him. He was rewarded with two, lovely exposed legs, from the ankles to the tops of her knees and as he unintentionally ogled her - well, he meant to ogle her but he didn't mean to get caught - she opened her mouth to speak, "The supply warehouse, Captain. Or do you plan on staring at my knee caps the entire day with your mouth hanging open?"

He looked up at her while he closed his mouth (it was, much to his chagrin, hanging open). As he applied pressure to the accelerator, he shook his head and offered, "You can't blame a guy for noticin'."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Leia's blushing face looked down at her exposed knees and tugged at her skirt to cover them. Right about that time he felt like one dirty, old man because the gesture made her look about fourteen years old. However, he knew by this time that she was nineteen and it was perfectly legal to take notice of her on most star systems – including their current one and both of their home planets. Not that Leia had a home planet anymore. That thought came across his mind like a cold slap to his mind-in-the-gutter face.

"What is it that you need from the supply warehouse, Captain?" Leia finally spoke up as the warehouse door came into view.

"Blaster charges. Some relay switches, emergency rations, synthflesh _and_ I'll see what else I can think of," he answered as he swung the mini-kart to a halt in front of the large entrance.

"Well, I'm sure Lieutenant Jacobs will be glad to help you with that. Thanks for the ride, Captain."

"How long ya stayin'? Maybe I can give you a lift back," he offered as he stepped off of the kart and walked up behind her as she headed for the warehouse entrance.

Without turning around to face him, one of her arms rose up and she waved her hand as she walked away and said, "Don't bother, Captain. I've got lots of work to do and you've got a kart to return."

That woman was always all business, Han lamented. And then he shook his head and mumbled, "Suit yourself," as he watched her walk away with that little wiggle-of-the-hips way-of-walking she had.

As he followed her towards the warehouse, he reminded himself that he did not want to get any more involved with these bleeding-heart rebels of a lost cause than he already was anyway - and especially not with their resident poster child. There were plenty of other options, both on-base and off, that would bring a lot less trouble to Han kriffin' Solo.

Speaking of, Leesa in the supply warehouse was one such an option. She had made it perfectly clear to Han that she wouldn't mind doing a little late night inventory onboard the _Falcon_. She was tall and, goddess help him, a red-head. Practically straight out of the Han Solo book of women-he-should-have-never-dated. Right. What was he thinking? The rebel princess was just not his type.

Han followed Leesa around the warehouse and loaded a hovercart full of his staggering list of medical supplies, keeping his eye out for the Princess of Alderaan the entire time. Thinking it wouldn't be such a bad idea to stick around until she needed a ride back to her office.

Before long, Han found himself leaning on Leesa's desk, resting half of his derriere on the piece of furniture and laughing at her anecdotes when the Rebel Princess stuck her head into Leesa's office and said, "Are you finished, Captain?"

His back was to the door that Leia had just spoken through and as he watched Leesa stiffen at the sound of her superior, he gave her a wink and turned to Leia and said, "I'm guessing that I am now."

"Yes, well, Lieutenant Jacobs has a job to do," Leia replied stiffly as she watched him raise himself off Leesa's desk. "And, if you are heading back to the hangar, I'll take you up on that ride," she added, as if in afterthought.

He gave her a smirk and turned back to Leesa as he said, "Thank you, Lieutenant Jacobs, you've been most helpful. Now, you keep your nose out of those womp rat nests and I'll see you next time."

Leesa giggled and replied, "It was my pleasure, Captain Solo and I look forward to it."

With a wink at Leesa he turned on his heels and brushed past one irate Alderaanian Princess and headed for his loaded down mini-kart.

"You do know that she's engaged?" Leia inquired as she came up behind him at a steady gallop.

He spun around to face her and she almost slammed into him, able to halt her break-neck pace just in time to avoid the collision. He took advantage of her nearness as he lowered his face to hers and rumbled, "Not my business to know."

Leia's mouth opened to a wide 'o' as her expression reeked of indignation. He turned away from her and walked up to the kart as she apparently found her voice and said, "And just what is that supposed to mean, Captain?"

"It means that it's her business to know whether or not she's engaged or otherwise spoken for, not mine," he answered brusquely while Leia climbed aboard and he started the mini-kart and then added, "Besides, we were just talking. Is that a crime?"

"Oh, don't give me that. You don't have to be an Imperial Engineer to figure out what was going on between you two in there."

"I didn't know you were keeping tabs on my sex life, Your Highness. Care to do some field research of your own?" Han smirked and gave her a wink as he drove the cart away from the warehouse.

"You are incorrigible."

"Who was doin' the flirtin', miss purveyor-of-all-things-virtuous?" Han inquired smugly as he raised his eyebrows to her.

"Excuse me?"

"In your observation, who would you say was flirtin' with _whom_ in the supply warehouse just now?"

"That doesn't matter," Leia shot back flatly, indicating to Han that she knew full well who was doing the chasing in there.

"Oh, but _I_ think it does. It matters a great deal and it brings us back to my original statement. Far be it from me to decide who is available and who's not. That, Your Worship, is a personal choice that each and every one of us has to make. If Lieutenant Jacobs makes herself available to me, is it my fault if I respond?"

"It is if you do so _knowing_ that she is committed to someone else. You would be just as guilty as she is in my book."

Han nodded his head and frowned at her assertion as he added, "And quite a book it is, I'm sure."

"I can only imagine the book of propriety you pretend to live by," she quipped and crossed her arms.

Deciding that he was all but tired of this conversation, it – like so many other things in his life – had suddenly gotten way out of his control. And flipping through the pages of his "rules to live by" book wasn't something he wanted to do with anybody, much less some holier-than-thou Princess.

The pair rode the rest of the way in silence and Han wondered if he should get his head examined. Had he actually been entertaining thoughts about this woman just moments ago?

They reached the hangar bay and Han stopped the mini-kart right outside of the corridor that led to the High Command assembly rooms and personnel chambers. As Leia slid out of the kart, she turned to look at him. "Thanks for the ride, Captain," and then she spun around and began to walk away, with that aforementioned wiggle-of-the-hips way-of-walking she had.

Han watched her walk away. Despite of everything, he guessed he might never get tired of _that_ view. Depressing the accelerator, he headed towards the _Falcon, _suddenly finding himself in a terrible mood.

As he drove through the hangar, Han pondered on his impression of the diminutive female named Leia Organa and decided that it had changed very little since their first meeting onboard the Death Star all those months ago. Sure, she could play a mean game of Sabacc, but her hopeless devotion to this rebellion and his continued refusal to officially join it fueled the conflict between the two. The fact that both he and the princess possessed a quick wit and smart mouths only served to escalate the issue.

Infamous for his distrust and lack of respect for authority, Han saw Leia's unwavering dedication and commitment to all things military as naive and foolish. Having seen more than his fair share of misused rank and undeserved promotions feed into useless wars and abuse of power, Han knew it would take more than a good cause to persuade him to join any establishment again. It wasn't that he didn't despise the Empire, he most certainly did, but he hadn't seen anything different in this rebel army - other than being on the right side of the war - to make them any different than the jokers he had served under before.

There was something about the rebel princess though, Han had to reluctantly admit, that piqued his interest just a centim. He liked the way she could handle a blaster - that was for sure. And, ironically, he did admire the way that she spoke her mind – mostly because she seemed to have a pretty decent head on her shoulders. And although he would never admit it to anyone, he sort of envied her and Luke's optimism and idealism. It reminded him of someone he used to know.

As he neared the landing pad where the _Falcon_ rested, Han noticed the pilot's message board and frowned. In every Rebel hangar there was a message board. Usually there was an electronic panel across the top of it that posted alerts or information that every pilot needed to see. Underneath was a schedule of who was docked and who was gone along with their mission numbers and estimated return dates. Sometimes the schedule was electronic. Sometimes it was scribbled in an erasable ink.

Slowing the kart down in front of the board, Han lingered in front of it for a moment and then tearing his eyes away from the schedule, he pressed the accelerator and followed a direct, determined path back to his ship.

[You got everything?] Chewie howled, as Han jumped out of the mini kart.

He strode towards Chewie in long, purposeful strides and the Wookiee stopped his inspection of the stabilizer panel and turned his full attention to his friend.

"Why are we on the schedule?" Han growled at Chewbacca with his eyes flared.

[They were handing out assignments. You weren't here.]

"Dammit, Chewie! How many different ways do I have to tell you that we can't stay?"

[You never said you were ready to leave.] Chewie replied coolly as he turned his attention back the stabilizer panel, effectively blowing Han off and riling Han up all at the same time.

"I never said I wanted to _stay_, either!" Han's voice rose as he watched his co-pilot ignore him. He looked up towards his ship and let out a long, deep sigh and then turning back to Chewie he calmly said, "Look at me."

Chewie dropped his hands from the panel and met Han's gaze.

"This is it. This is the absolute last run we're making. They'll be lucky if I even touch down when I get back and shove their damn supplies out of my holds until it's raining radios and ration bars all over this gods forsaken hangar floor! Does that make it clear enough for you?"

Chewie turned his attention back to the stabilizer panel without saying a word.

"That's what I thought," Han mumbled as he turned back towards the mini kart and began to unload his supplies.


	3. Chapter Three  The Princess

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Three: The Princess

Leia Organa exited her office and walked down the corridor towards the Rebel hangar. The Alliance was evacuating tomorrow for the second time since she joined them over six months ago. It seemed that after their destruction of the Death Star, the Empire was tracking the Rebels' whereabouts with a whole new zeal. Not that Leia had any idea how long these bases were supposed to last, being new to the aspects of the underground as she was. But from all that she had studied and from the overheard hallway conversations, it was apparent to her that the brief stint on their current base was not the established norm.

With no home planet to return to and no chance of resuming her role as senator in the Imperial Senate, Leia had totally submersed herself into the Rebellion now. Not only in joining its hidden forces but also with her own renewed fervor and motivation. She had everything to fight for; her home planet serving as the latest victim of the Emperor's maniacal rule. _Everything to fight for_, she thought to herself, _and nothing to live for_… A dangerous combination, she knew.

The first few months had been the hardest, but as time had worn on and the novelty of the Alderaanian Princess had worn off for everyone, she had settled into a comforting routine of work, work and more work. Never allowing herself much time to reflect on her emotional state, she was content to let everyone around her merely assume that her mental injuries had healed and faded just as her physical bruises had.

Only Leia knew that she still ended up huddled on the floor some nights and that she worked relentlessly day and night not solely for the Rebellion but also for the mere distraction. All she had to do was hold on, she kept telling herself. Her entire life seemed to be centered around making it just one more day. She wondered how much time one needed to find themselves again.

Leia entered the Rebel hangar and slowly came to a standstill, allowing her eyes to sweep over the activity before her – mentally assessing the entire situation. The supply warehouse, which was under her span of control, had been emptied over the past couple of days and slowly loaded into any viable starship with the slightest bit of available cargo holds.

All remaining supplies that still needed to be loaded were sprinkled before Leia throughout the cavernous hangar. Everywhere she looked, she saw repulsor sleds of her inventory either being moved about, counted or loaded into new-found storage options. Seating, tables, and other unnecessary ship parts were being stripped out in favor of crates of medical supplies, computer systems and weaponry. Everyone, from droids to Generals, was working. The sense that time was of the essence was as plain as the sound of bleeping astromech droids and whizzing power tools.

"You're really good at that," Leia heard a low rumbling voice whisper in her ear. It didn't take long for her quick mind to place it.

Pulling her head away from his and spinning to face him, Leia replied, "At what, Captain Solo?" Her voice was laced with aggravation in a way that this certain Corellian seemed to coax out of her better than anyone else.

"Watching people work," Han replied with a smirk as he crossed his hands over his chest and let his eyes wander across the busy hangar, "almost as if you've trained for it your entire life."

Leia rolled her eyes at the frustrating smuggler and shook her head as she let her eyes follow his across the scene she had just been studying. "I would argue with you about your ignorant misconceptions, but I'm not in the habit of wasting my energy on lost causes," she explained without looking at him.

"You're not? What do you call-" the Corellian began but was halted when the princess spun her head around to glare at him, silently daring him to finish his thought with a look she usually reserved for Grand Moffs and Sith Lords.

After a momentary staring contest, Leia shot back, "For someone who thinks this Rebellion is such a _lost cause_, you sure have managed to stick around for a long time." Straightening herself up to her full height, she watched the smuggler open his mouth to reply, but she continued quickly, effectively cutting him off as she added, "Maybe you should take a look in the mirror before you sling your insults and accusations around, Captain!"

Storming away before the word 'captain' was fully out of her mouth, she did not want to hear his lame reply, knowing all too well that the battle between them to have the last word could eat up her entire day.

"Was it something I said?" she heard him shout at her retreating figure. She chose to act as if she had not heard him.

As she made her way through the maze of activity, she chastised herself for letting Han Solo get her ire up like that. Stopping here and there to answer a question or offer her unsolicited advice, she watched as he strode passed her on the way to his dilapidated ship.

Since their meeting so many months ago, he had made it his distinct goal in life – or so that was her opinion – to aggravate and tease her incessantly. Her being the Rebellion's procurement officer and him being contracted to run supplies had made it nearly impossible for Leia to avoid dealing with the cocky smuggler. That he was her top contact, completing more successful supply runs than anyone else, only served to make matters worse.

She had to admit that even though he was unorthodox, he was a great pilot and showed a loyalty to the Rebellion - at least while he was under contract - that some enlisted men failed to live up to. His dedication to his missions baffled Leia, while her other operatives took chances and risks for the sake of the Rebellion, she wondered just what motivated the Corellian to do half of what he had done in the time she had known him.

Leia spotted General Rieekan across the bay and turned to head toward him. In her role as procurement officer, Leia reported to General Rieekan. Since her submersion into the underground, Leia found few people that would speak to her as if she were an equal, much less as if she were a human being - most people tip-toed around her and whispered behind her back. Whether they were in awe of her, felt pity for her or despised her made no difference – the outcome remained the same. Leia was lonely.

"General," Leia addressed the General with a smile that was quickly returned by the older gentleman.

"Princess," General Rieekan replied before adding, "Everything is progressing nicely. Great work, as usual."

Leia spun around so that she was standing shoulder to shoulder – or shoulder to bicep, as it were - with the general. As they surveyed the activity before them, the General added, "I'm glad you found me, I need to speak to you."

"About?" Leia questioned as she turned her head toward him.

"Captain Solo arrived this morning," he began.

"Yes, I already ran into him."

"Oh, did you speak to him about his decision, then?"

"Decision? What do you mean?"

"Captain Solo has not agreed to rendezvous with us - as of yet. His cargo holds are empty," the General explained and with a nod towards the remaining supplies still needing to be loaded, he added, "We were counting on the _Millennium Falcon's_ storage capacity."

"That's the danger of placing so much trust in an un-enlisted man," Leia replied as she shook her head at this new twist in her situation and inwardly kicked herself for her behavior towards Captain Solo just moments ago.

"I was hoping you could speak with him," the General pressed.

"I certainly will, but I'm not sure how much good it'll do," Leia answered, her mood deflating.

"Oh, I think you'll be surprised."

Leia watched a smile creep across the older man's face and shook her head as she replied, "You disappoint me, Carlist, I thought you would rise above believing idle gossip."

Rieekan let out a quick, bellowing laugh as he patted her back and said, "Nonsense! That's where all the most reliable information is circulated. Hell, this rebellion – if you'll remember - began as idle gossip on the Senate floor."

Leia smiled back as she enjoyed the General's easy laughter and relaxed conversation with her. Shaking her head at him, she finally countered, "Point to you. But there is no truth to any rumors surrounding Captain Solo and me – I can assure you."

Rumors around the cooped up Rebel base could range anywhere from what Darth Vader wore under his suit to who was sleeping with whom. With there being so few women on base, Leia's almost immediate induction into the rumor mill was inevitable. Although early gossip had combined the young princess with nearly every Rogue pilot on base, more recent rumors had become more heavily centered on her and Han or her and Luke. Those late night Sabacc games onboard the _Falcon_ and the Corellian's uncanny ability to engage her in verbal warfare had not helped matters.

"I'm not interested in the truth of the rumors, Leia. Just what the rumors can do to serve this Rebellion. You have a way with the Corellian, you can't deny that," Carlist explained, his expression remained soft and relaxed.

"You're treading on thin ice with that line of thought, General," the Princess shot back. The General turned to look at her, his smile not quite faded as he gauged the seriousness of the Princess's retort. He knew her too well to suspect she was truly offended.

Smiling back at him, she let the General off the hook as she teased back and said, "I'm only willing to go so far for this Rebellion, I'll have you know."

"I'm not asking you to do anything more than talk to him," the General replied with a smile. "Anything else you two do, I'd rather not know about."

"Right," the Princess answered him with roll of her eyes and a smirk. "I guess I'll head over there now," she sighed.

His expression turning serious now, the General added, "We're willing to double his usual fee, Leia. But we would rather not have to."

"I understand," Leia replied, having shed her relaxed and teasing manner as well. "I'll update you as soon as I know anything," she assured the General as she turned and took leave of him.

Walking towards the _Falcon_ at the other end of the hangar, Leia contemplated what might be the best way to approach the unpredictable spacer. To say that she was surprised by the General's revelation concerning Han's commitment to join the Rebels at their next base would be a gross understatement. Never letting the fact that Han Solo refused to enlist in the Alliance escape her, she realized she had indeed begun to take his presence for granted.

This turn of events unnerved Leia and she found it difficult to pin down just what was more upsetting: that he was bailing out on the Rebellion or that he was abandoning her. Although the rumors had their relationship heading in an entirely different direction than reality had taken it, she couldn't deny that she regarded him as a friend. Someone she would surely miss. Han, Luke and Chewie had become like her adopted family since she had met them on the Death Star over six months ago.

As the _Millennium Falcon_ grew larger and larger upon her approach, Leia set aside those personal feelings. She was more than sure that Han Solo held her in no such regard and wouldn't call her a friend if threatened with torture and execution. Chewie and Luke? Maybe they were a different story. Well, Luke for sure, at least.

Leia turned her gaze up toward the top of the _Falcon_ as she heard Chewie roar a greeting down to her. She had come to recognize this particular greeting as 'Princess', or at least she thought that's what he said. It could be Princess, or Leia, or something entirely derogatory. She suspected she might never really know.

Leia had made studying Shyriiwook one of her highest priorities, not only to enable her to communicate better on a friendly basis with the towering Wookiee, but as a viable alternative to dealing with the Wookiee's partner-in-arms. Leia had a feeling that she would find Chewie much more amiable and much less frustrating to deal with than Han Solo had proven to be.

"Repairs?" Leia questioned the Wookiee as she eyed up the tool in his giant paw and the contorted wires and wispy clouds of smoke rising up out of the maintenance hatch below him.

Chewie nodded his head, shook the fist that held the worn out tool, and growled something that Leia didn't care to take a guess at deciphering. She suspected some of that translation might cause her to blush. Chewie and Han had done wonders for her foul language education, if nothing else.

"Is Captain Solo onboard?" she inquired.

Another nod and a more polite hoot seemed to indicate the affirmative and extend an invitation to go inside.

"Thank you, Chewie," she smiled and watched as the Wookiee grunted one last comment and turned his attention back to his work.

She thought he said something along the lines of 'anytime for you' and she smiled inwardly at her warm reaction to his sentiment. Walking up the gangway of the _Falcon_, she hoped she would receive a similar response from the ship's pilot.

"Captain Solo?" Leia called out as soon as she reached the top of the gangway. She had learned early on that it would be playing with fire to surprise the irreverent spacer with an unannounced entrance into his ship. It only took one time for Leia to learn _that_ valuable lesson.

"In here," she heard the familiar voice call out to her, and she began to walk further into the ship.

"Where's here?" she called out upon finding the lounge empty.

"My cabin."

Leia rolled her eyes and wondered if he had run in there at the sight of her approaching. His attempts to get her into his cabin, one way or another, were starting to become legendary.

"Can you come out here, please?" she questioned, not wanting to give him any more advantage during this conversation than he already seemed to have.

Lingering in the silence of her unanswered request, Leia took a few steps towards the corridor that led to the crew's quarters and called out, "Han!"

"In here!" he answered again, somewhat testily and Leia resigned herself to the fact that she would have to humor him.

The door to his cabin was open and she walked cautiously inside. Quickly surveying the room, it looked much the same as it had in the very few occasions she had seen it before. His bunk was in a shambled disarray of sheets and pillows. A small desk flanking the opposite wall sat filled with tools, pieces of flimsi and spent rations. The tiny locker that served as his closet sat with its door askew – apparently desperately clinging to one lone hinge – while an assortment of clothes and what looked like old space charts peeked out precariously. The room smelled of grease, soap and cologne with a slight metallic aroma mixed in - it smelled like Han.

Her eyes continued to sweep the room until they landed on their target or at least on his legs and feet. Han was lying on his back with his upper body disappearing into the en suite 'fresher, his lower body protruding into his cabin, and an assortment of unidentified parts and tools spread around him. Leia continued to move towards him until she was able to appraise the entire situation. He was apparently working on the clothing valet located in his 'fresher. From her new vantage point, Leia could see the disassembled piece of equipment and the grease-smudged face of the man she had been looking for.

"Is this a bad time, Captain?" Leia inquired.

"Depends on why you're here."

"I'm here to speak to you about your accompanying us to our next base."

"Then, yes, it's a bad time," Han grunted as he pulled on something that appeared to be as stubborn as he was.

"We were counting on your cargo space," Leia continued undeterred.

She watched as his hands stilled at their current task and he lifted his head to look at her. Shuffling on her feet a little, she said nothing and watched as he turned his attention back to his prior task.

Setting herself to say something, she flinched when he spoke again, "Maybe that's the problem."

"I'm not sure I follow you," Leia lied. Obviously the Corellian was feeling a bit taken for granted. This was going to call for some fancy footwork on her part.

Leia jumped as Han let loose on a string of expletives and hammered - with what was clearly not a tool meant for such work - at the offending apparatus. With an exasperated huff, Han brought himself up to a sitting position and flung the dented instrument into a nearby tool tray.

"At least make a final run with us to our new base, carrying whatever cargo you can hold, of course. And then you can be on your way," Leia spoke, a half-pleading hint to her voice. If she could get him to the next base, she could worry about the rest later.

Han wiped his hands off on a nearby towel and then Leia studied him curiously as he reached his hand up towards her.

"You're standing in my cabin begging me to stay. At least you can help me up," Han taunted as he straightened his arm out in an exaggerated motion.

"I do not beg," Leia countered as she took his hand and helped him up. Once on his feet, his proximity to her and the way he towered over her made her feel immediately uncomfortable.

"Are you sure about that, Princess? Because that's sure what it sounded like to me," Han drawled out in a throaty whisper that made Leia's chest constrict and pulse quicken. She was sure that if she possessed the ability to blow steam out of her ear drums from frustration she could certainly do so at this precise moment.

Taking a deep breath, Leia stood her ground and replied firmly, "We are prepared to increase your usual fee, Captain."

"I had something a little more personal than _credits _in mind, Your Highness." As he said this, he decreased the distance between them, and Leia's stomach did a flip flop.

Cursing the burning that she felt creeping up her face, she refused to relent, "Well, then, enlighten me - _please_."

Leia had found that calling the gambler's bluff was a much more effective way to deal with him than her usual rebuttals and rebuffs. Her tactics had slowly evolved over the past several months to compensate for that fact.

She tried her best to control her smirk as she watched Han straighten up and move to walk past her and out of his cabin. Finally he said, "I'm sick and tired of High Command second-guessing every decision I make. I've given them no reason not to trust me."

"You _refuse_ to enlist!" She answered him incredulously as she turned around to follow him towards the lounge.

As she approached him, Han spun around to face her and said, "I honor my contracts. I go above and beyond to deliver what is agreed to - more so than most of your enlisted men!"

"But then you pull a stunt like this!" Leia countered heatedly but then dropped her tone as she continued, "Leaving us hanging when you know we need you the most."

Han brought his finger up to her and wagged it at her as he spoke, "This is not a _stunt_! I'm an _independent_! I can leave when I want to! Without reason! And without some guilt trip from High Command!" He spun around again and left her standing there in the corridor as he added, calling to her over his shoulder, "Or you!"

Leia took a deep breath and began to walk towards him again. All was not lost in her mind. She figured he wouldn't be arguing with her at all if he really intended to leave. Disappearing in the middle of the night or just not returning from a mission seemed more likely.

Finding him in the galley washing his hands, Leia said softly, "I can't control how High Command treats you. But I know _I've_ never second-guessed you and _I_ realize you're the best contact we've got."

_Make it personal, Leia, because staying for the Rebellion or for the High Command is not this man's priority_. She felt of wave of guilt wash over her as she recalled General Rieekan's insinuating remarks from earlier.

She watched as Han took in a deep breath, turned off the running water and grabbed a towel to dry his hands. "I want double my usual fee and I make no guarantees about what will happen once my holds are emptied."

_Sithspit! _Leia cringed at the knowledge of how desperately they needed him to do this but also at how terribly broke the Rebellion was becoming. She straightened up as she answered, "Twenty-five percent over your usual fee, that's as much as I'm able to authorize."

"Forty or I walk."

"Deal," Leia quickly replied and grabbed his hand and shook it in the universal gesture of acceptance.

"I thought you could only authorize twenty-five," Han questioned her suspiciously as he held her hand tightly, his voice just slightly elevated.

"I lied," Leia replied with a smirk, not even bothering to disguise her smugness. As Han took his hand back and prepared to say something she added, "I was actually authorized for much more than that."

"Yeah, well," Han sputtered at her as she turned around to leave, "I would've taken a whole lot less!"

Not turning around to reveal her huge grin to the Corellian, Leia called over her shoulder as she walked towards the _Falcon_'s gangway, "Have your holds readied, Captain. I'll be sending a crew right over."


	4. Chapter Four  The Mercenary

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Four: The Mercenary

"Nine months, Chewie! Nine months! That's all I'm saying," Han Solo declared as if just stating the obvious amount of time that had passed was argument enough.

Han and Chewie had been working on miscellaneous repairs on the _Falcon_ while being grounded for over three weeks on an Alliance base; their third since joining the rebels on Yavin IV nine months ago. An Imperial blockade had been set up surrounding the planet, apparently regarding some interstellar trade dispute. As far as the rebels knew the Imps had not discovered their hidden base, but the blockade prevented any safe passage into or out of their location, nonetheless. As time dragged on and the list of repairs needed to the ship began to shrink, tensions between the two old friends began to rise.

[So, you're ready to go? Let's go. Don't act like I'm the one stopping you.]

"Oh, get off of it! You'd be a godsdamn Supreme Commander if they asked you!"

[Yes! I would. What's wrong with that?]

_Yes_, Han Solo thought to himself, _just what is wrong with that?_ _What's wrong with you?_ He decided was a fairer question. As the months wore on, it was becoming less clear why he had submerged himself into this rebellion. Or perhaps, the clearer it became, the less happy he was with the answer.

He shook those thoughts off like a Tie Fighter on his tail and continued, "We've got to pay off Jabba. That's what's wrong with that. We have our own war to fight. We don't need to take on someone else's."

[This _is_ our war, whether we choose to fight it or not. Don't act like you don't know that. And Jabba will want double if not triple of what we originally owed him now. I thought we agreed we wouldn't go back until we had more credits.]

Han hated when Chewie was right. Scratch that, Han hated when anybody was right but him. Of course Chewie was right about Jabba wanting more money, but he was also right about the war. Han knew as well as Chewie did that if they hadn't joined in with the Rebellion nine months ago they would have more than likely been fighting alongside of them by now anyway - and if not by now, then very soon. As the Empire continued to squeeze its iron fist around the entire galaxy everyone would eventually be forced to choose a side.

"It'll never be enough credits. Can't you see that? The longer we stay, the more he'll want."

[So, let's leave then. No one's stopping you.]

"Oh, hells. I don't know."

Something itched inside the Corellian like mynocks eating at his organs. The longer he stayed the more he felt compelled to leave. The more he talked about leaving, the more he convinced himself to stay. Han knew he would have to face Jabba eventually no matter how much he feared the crime lord's wrath. Hiding out with the rebels, however, had allowed him to delay that inevitable confrontation indefinitely if he wanted to, it seemed. But something continued to nag at him, something that made him want to set things straight - to set his entire life straight. Well, as straight as he would ever be able to get it, anyway.

[Exactly! Then quit blaming me because you can't admit that you're attached to these Rebels, like it or not.]

"I'm not _attached_ to these Rebels! They pay good and offer us cover, that's all."

That's all the stubborn Corellian was willing to admit anyway – at least out loud to anyone, including his oldest and most trusted friend. He should've known the minute he turned the _Falcon_ around to help Luke out that day that he was in trouble. One good thing leads to another and pretty soon he'd be just another sap out believing he can make a difference in the universe. Believing in things like: a princess and a guy like me…

[What about the kid?]

"What about Luke?"

Han's anger flared as his internal shields shot up.

[You treat him like your own.]

"So?" he answered lamely, trying to figure out how to argue with someone who could read him so well.

[And the princess?]

"Don't even," Han warned.

[Well?] Chewie didn't heed Han's warnings - ever.

"I've had enough of this conversation," Han answered as he pounded his fist against the nearest bulkhead and headed for the _Falcon's_ exit.

[Exactly!] Chewie yelled after him as Han stormed off of the ship.

Han Solo left the _Falcon_ in a huff, his brain swirling with death marks and Star Destroyers, with Hutts and bounty hunters and with Jedi and Princesses. Well, just one Princess. Spotting General Rieekan ahead of him, Han quickened his pace and approached the older gentleman. It was about time he got off of this rock.

"General," Han nodded at the General as he slowed his pace to stand before him.

"Solo," the General nodded back and offered a half smile to the smuggler.

"Any news on the blockade?"

"It's still there, as far as our intelligence can tell us," General Rieekan offered. Han respected the older man, having developed an immediate trust and friendship of sorts with him.

"The plan is still to lie low and wait?" Han asked as he fidgeted on his feet, silently debating if he should just tell the General now that he was ready to leave.

"We still think that is our most viable option at this time. Fortunately, food sources aren't a problem here and we don't need weapons and credits as long as we're grounded."

_No use telling him I'm bugging out now, when I can't even bug out if I wanted to_. Han replied simply, "True."

"Finished with your repairs on the _Falcon_?" Rieekan inquired with a genuine interest. The General had visited the _Falcon_ on a couple of occasions and was familiar with whatever modifications Han felt it safe to share with him – which was most everything.

"Well, we're never really finished with that. But, we've done all we can with the parts and credits available right now."

"Right. You know the supply shed was damaged last night when that storm came through," the General offered.

_The supply shed. Leia_. Ensuring he had his Sabacc face in check, Han responded, "Yeah."

"The Princess is soliciting volunteers to help with repairs and cleanup. With more than half of Rogue Squadron stuck off base, I think she's getting pretty desperate."

"Desperate enough to accept help from me?"

"I think she's just about there, yes," Rieekan chuckled.

Han eyed the General for a moment and then responded, "Alright, I'll round up Chewie and we'll lend her a hand."

As Han shuffled his stance and prepared to take leave of the General, Rieekan added, "We can't afford to pay you for your services, Captain."

The hairs on the back of Han's neck did a little dance as Han sheepishly replied, "I wasn't going to ask."

"I didn't think so," the General answered quickly as Han Solo turned and walked away.

Han swung by the _Falcon_ and with not much more than a, 'C'mon, ya big lug', he had Chewie following him towards the supply shed. As the two entered the large, double-door entrance, Han let his eyes quickly scan the room, searching for the woman who had him volunteering and ruminating over galactic injustices…

The warehouse was a mess. Daylight shown through the missing roof panels and a handful of operatives and pilots were working on moving wet boxes and fallen ceiling tiles. The air was thick with humidity, immediately clinging to Han as he entered the area like a weird cousin at a family reunion. And the place smelled of cleaning solvents, pungent and excessive, it burnt Han's nostrils as he breathed in. His eyes fell on the shelving that stood in the middle of the storeroom, usually stacked high with crates and boxes; it was slowly being emptied by a handful of weary Rebels and then dabbled dry with miscellaneous rags and towels.

In the middle of all of this was a lone female, pushing a mop across the puddle of mess that had formed an island on the supply room floor. Her hair was pinned up but several disobedient strands had escaped and were clinging to any piece of sweaty skin they could find. Her face was flushed and she remained focused on the task at hand, as if it was of vital importance to someone or something. She wore a sleeveless shirt and some lightweight casual slacks that were now clinging to her body like a second skin.

It wasn't until Chewie and Han were towering in front of her that the woman finally wrenched her attention away from her mop.

"Rieekan said you were looking for volunteers," Han spoke into her silent question, his eyes unable to stay on one single part of her sweaty body for more than a millisecond. Everywhere he looked was another inappropriate something or other tantalizing him through the interesting combination of thin fabric and perspiration.

"_You're_ my volunteers?" She asked incredulously as she wiped the back of her hand against her sweaty forehead.

"Yes," Han replied as he noticed how her breasts looked as she raised her arm that way. _Focus, Solo, focus!_

"_You_ volunteered?" She asked again as she placed both hands on the handle of her mop, using the tool to steady her obviously tired body.

"Yes!" Han answered her in a huff. _What's so hard to believe about that?_

"We're not paying you?" She verified haughtily as she shifted her hips to one side.

"The last time I checked, that's what _volunteered_ means."

"I'm sorry, Captain. I just don't think I've ever known you to do anything for the Alliance without negotiating a fruitful contract," the Princess countered as she turned towards the nearest shelf and leaned the mop handle up against it.

"Maybe I'm not doing it for the Alliance," Han answered as he watched her look him up and down as if trying to figure him out.

"Whatever the case," she finally sighed, shaking her head as if she had given up trying to determine his motives. Han noticed her take one last look at him and then over to Chewie as she said, "Let's start over here."

The Princess turned on the charm as she pointed up towards the roof and then looked back down at the two smugglers. Han noticed how easily she could turn that on and off when she wanted to. Unable to put up much of a protest, Han and Chewie began to haul up new pieces of durasteel panels and secure them to the damaged roof.

As she lingered around below the two workers, Leia kept mumbling something about making sure they were attaching the roof pieces correctly. A mixture of a few anxious gasps and shouts of 'Be careful!' led the Corellian to believe that she hung around for other reasons. Whether it was in fear for his safety or a perverse desire to see him plummet to his death, Han couldn't say for sure. His hopes were on the former.

To say that the Rebel Princess totally confused him would be an understatement. He was quite able to easily coerce a severe blush out of her at his every whim, but she seemed impervious to any of his other advances. The more his desire for her grew, the less he could convince himself that she even knew his name. _That's why she calls you Captain, you fool_.

Although she had attracted much attention upon their arrival, all the other men on base had written her off as frigid, but Han couldn't believe that was so. He had enjoyed the pleasure of seeing her laugh and had been lucky enough to be around when she would let her guard down and actually hold a conversation with him. He had been delighted to discover that she could play Sabacc and drink Corellian whiskey and that she wasn't above a foul word or two.

She fascinated him.

The shiny roof of the supply warehouse reflected the large sun looming overhead in a way that tripled its intense heat. Not very long into the job, Han stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. As he lifted it up over his head, he caught sight of two large, kaffe eyes watching him intently, and he smiled. The Princess immediately turned away upon being discovered, but the damage had already been done. It seemed she could appreciate a body covered in perspiration as well. Han found the revelation exhilarating as he often wondered if anything turned the tightly-wound rebel on, besides successful missions and fruitful contracts, that is…

The Princess disappeared and for some reason the work seemed to move along faster, something Han's annoying sidekick didn't fail to point out to him. Climbing down from the now fixed roof, Han wiped his face with his previously discarded shirt and then pulled it back over his head. As soon as he had straightened himself up, he noticed Leia walking toward them – two glasses of water in her hands.

She handed the cool water to each of them and said with a sincere smile, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Han answered and Chewie hooted the same. They both took a long draw of the cool liquid, Chewie actually finishing his in one giant swig. Watching her watching him, Han added, "Now, let's talk about my payment."

This seemed to knock the Princess out of her trance as she straightened up and said, "Excuse me, Captain? I thought we already discussed this."

Chewie grunted something about 'That's my cue to leave,' handed his glass to the Princess, and bid her and his friend farewell.

Han took a small step towards her, ignoring his departing friend. He couldn't tear his eyes off of her as he replied, "I said I wasn't taking payment from the Alliance. I didn't say anything about not taking a payment from you."

"Always the mercenary, huh, Solo?" she replied as she shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her. Han studied her, he knew her every reaction and he was learning when to press and when to cut his losses. Looking down at her, he pressed on.

"Aw, c'mon, my price isn't that steep," he replied innocently as he casually took another sip of water.

"What are we talking about, then?" The Princess took his bait and he relished the fact that she seemed willing to be caught.

_Take it easy, Solo, it's just like trying to corner a wild nerf_…

"Dinner on the _Falcon_ with me and Chewie," he said as he took a step closer to her. "Maybe a game of Sabacc," he added with another step. He dropped his voice several octaves as he drew himself even closer and added, "and a coupla glasses of wine."

"Don't push it," she replied steely as she shuffled her feet and stole a little distance from him.

Backing off a little, Han straightened up and said, "Dinner then?"

"Dinner," she agreed as she let her arms fall down to her sides, her composure relaxing.

Han interpreted her reaction as an invitation to pounce and he took the last step possible to close the distance between them. Leaning his head down to hers, he dropped his voice again as he drawled, "Let's say around eighteen hundred hours then? Casual attire. Maybe something low cut? I'll leave my shirt off if you want."

"Eighteen hundred hours, Captain, and you'd better have a shirt on."

"Oh, that's right," he said as he straightened up a bit and then added with a wink, "You like to watch me _undress_."

"Well, it is your _only_ redeeming quality," she replied wryly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied as he watched her, wondering what went through that head of hers and just how far he could push her when she was in this particular mood.

"I didn't doubt that you would."

Looking down at her chest and dragging his eyes back up to find hers looking at him, he went for broke and asked, "When can I see _your_ redeeming qualities?"

"I'm afraid now you've gone and out-priced yourself, Captain," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Han enjoyed watching the color creep up her neck and quickly convinced himself that it was probably best to let his current thought remain unvoiced.

Responding to his silence, she said, "Eighteen hundred hours, Captain, and you'll be lucky if I still show." Grabbing his empty glass, she turned around and walked away.

As the mercenary watched the princess walk away from him, he couldn't help but smile. He looked forward to dinner and was sure she would at least stay for one game of Sabacc. His insides didn't itch and he didn't feel compelled to figure anything out anymore. The only thing on his mind was what he should cook tonight and believe it or not, what he should wear. The entire day's jumbled thoughts and nagging anxieties wiped clean by a single dinner invite and a reluctant acceptance, by a tiny spark he was sure he didn't imagine and by a burning feeling inside of his chest that he blamed on his spicy breakfast.


	5. Chapter Five  The Anniversary

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Five: The Anniversary

It was exactly one year after the destruction of the Death Star and all available Alliance personnel had migrated to the Officer's Mess. It wasn't planned and could hardly be called a celebration; more like a tribute to all that was sacrificed and all who were lost in that epic battle. The mood of the room varied from table to table. From tear-felt stories of friends and loved ones lost, to jocular anecdotes and tales of bravery - the room swelled with emotion.

On the far side of the hall near the galley, several tables had been removed and a makeshift dance floor had been created. There was a small radio playing light-hearted music that was just barely audible over the hum of conversation filling the room. The dance floor remained empty, except for the fact that most personnel had to cross it to get to the food line and the bar.

Princess Leia stood outside the door to the mess hall and peered in through the glass window like a child locked out in the cold. She could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and the beat of some faint music through the thin door that separated her from it all. Had it really been one year since the destruction of Alderaan? Shaking her head she leaned her forehead against the door and closed her eyes. Why hadn't she stayed in her room? Turning back to look down the hallway from which she came, she stood and stared for a moment.

This thin veil of separation from everyone else in the universe was not a new feeling for the Princess. For the past year she had methodically constructed a wall that protected her from the risky endeavor of human contact. She had become accustomed to the loneliness, to the lack of human touch and compassion. Those that were allowed close were still kept at a safe distance. But at what price? Her father had always told her that wars were not won by the size of one's army but by the size of their army's heart. Something inside of her twisted painfully at the sound of her father's words and the knowledge that her heart had been taken out of this fight so long ago.

"Hey."

Leia jumped at the sound of his voice. Spinning around, she found Luke standing with the door open, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed down in worry.

"Hey," she replied, shaking her head back and forth, "I didn't hear the door open."

"I thought I saw you through the window…I've been wondering if you were going to come."

"I wasn't sure…I'm not sure what I want to do," Leia answered as she looked past Luke and into the crowded room.

"I've got a table in the back, there's just a couple of guys sitting at one end, but it's pretty private."

Leia just stared into the room. She could smell the food being served through the galley line and the clinking of cups and plates was now mixed in with the music, conversation and laughter. Shaking her head she decided that whatever waited for her in that room couldn't be any worse than what she had just left behind in the four walls of her cabin.

Following closely behind Luke, she held onto his hand as he led her around the perimeter of the room until reaching a nearly empty table at the back of the officer's mess. Taking a seat next to Luke, Leia glanced around the room as she spotted Chewie, seated at the next table apparently several rounds into a serious game of Sabacc with Wes Janson, Wedge Antilles and Han Solo.

There were two young men Leia didn't know by name but recognized as Rogue Squadron pilots who were seated at the far end of her and Luke's table. Upon locking eyes with one of the pilots, Leia smiled politely and nodded before turning her attention back to Luke.

"I'm glad you decided to come. I had almost given up on you," Luke admitted as he watched Leia turn to face him.

"Honestly, I wasn't sure if I would come until just this last minute," Leia confessed as she took a deep breath.

After an awkward silence, Luke ventured a question, "Can you believe it's only been a year since we met?"

Looking down at the table in front of her and letting his words mull over in her mind, she raised her eyes up to him and finally replied, "It does seem like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

That was an understatement. One year ago she was eighteen, going on twenty-four, now she was nineteen, and going on eighty-four…

"Do you think High Command should have sanctioned a party?" Luke inquired.

Leia had heard discussions among the troops and the High Council on what was indeed proper, both as a befitting homage to the battle and its losses and an acceptable expense for a cash-strapped Rebellion still fighting that same war.

"Not really," she ventured her opinion, "although the victory was substantial, it came at a very high cost." Then Leia added as her voice choked a bit, "And the war isn't over yet."

Luke had become her closest friend, yet even he seemed startled by the uncommon reaction from the princess as he mumbled, "Sorry."

"Don't be," she replied quickly as she straightened up her posture and looked him in the eye.

Turning away, Luke looked down at the bench between them and said, "You know, I don't have any family left either, Leia. But sometimes, family is who you want it to be. You know?"

"I know," she answered as the sound of bellowing laughter caught her attention and she turned to look at the table in the distance. Several operatives were joined in a loud, boisterous laughter and Leia wondered what they could be reminiscing about.

"You're the closest thing I have to family now," Luke replied quickly while Leia's attention was briefly elsewhere.

"Thanks, Luke."

Unable to look him in the eye, she knew that she wanted to express something more substantial in return; at least it strongly felt like she did. But something wouldn't allow her to. It was dangerous to develop such attachments during a war. Luke was a Rogue Squadron pilot. Leia knew all too well what the casualty rates were on their pilots. As awful as it was to think about, that was the reality. It didn't stop her from caring, but somehow she thought not saying the words out loud would stop it from hurting so much when the inevitable occurred.

She could sense Luke's anticipation and then disappointment at her response. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he looked around the mess hall and then asked in a casual tone, "What do you think makes Han stick around?"

Leia had been wondering just what had made the independent smuggler stay with the Alliance for this long herself. She let her eyes find Han sitting at the next table and upon finding him staring back at her, she turned back to look at Luke and finally said, "I think he's hiding from that Hutt just as much as we're hiding from the Empire."

"So you think he's just hiding out? You don't think he cares about the Alliance?"

"If he _cared_ about the Alliance I think he would enlist. I think he uses us for a convenient hideout and he'll leave when he doesn't need us anymore…or we quit paying him."

Although she had gotten to know Han much better over the past year, she certainly couldn't pretend to understand what made him tick. If she thought of herself as guarded when it came to letting people into her thoughts and feelings then as the old saying goes: It takes one to know one. And Han Solo was one, too.

"Chewie believes in the Alliance." Luke interrupted her thoughts again.

"Yes, I think Chewie has convinced Han to stay this long."

"I think Han hates the Empire enough to believe in the Alliance. I think all his time here has changed him, but he would never admit it."

"Really?" She certainly wouldn't have recognized the Han Solo she met one year ago compared to the one that she had gotten to know over this past year. But did she start off with a misconception and he'd always been the same, or had he changed? Or had she? Or both?

"Yeah. I don't have any proof or anything, but just a feeling."

"Aren't a Jedi's feelings supposed to mean something?"

"Sometimes. I don't know if this is one of those times. Could just be a regular, old feeling. I can't tell the difference yet." Luke ran his finger along the cafeteria table, one of his nervous tells.

"Does it scare you, being the last of the Jedi?" She leaned her head down so that he would have to look at her.

"Yeah. I feel like everyone expects so much from me but I'm still just that farm boy who was clueless about the Force just a year ago." His honesty was refreshing and she was empathetic with the feeling of having to live up to something that everyone thought you should be.

Feeling like she needed to lighten the mood, she smirked and said, "And now you're just plain clueless."

"Very funny!" Luke responded with friendly shove of his shoulder against hers and then asked her, "What about you? Does anything scare you?"

His question surprised her and she laughed a little at his naiveté. Leia shook her head and responded, "Well, yes, Luke. I'm not a _mechanical_. I actually do have feelings you know."

"Well, you don't ever show 'em," he huffed back quickly and she realized he was probably right.

"I guess it's out of habit now, I never used to be this way," she looked around the room and then back at Luke, he had widened his eyes at her, like she had just sprouted out another head or something, so she continued, "I mean, I was never a weepy, silly girl, _ever_ – but, I was never…like this." _Like a machine._

"Since Alderaan?"

"Yes," she answered quickly and then whispered absently, "I guess everyone was expecting me to…or waiting for me to…I don't know - break down or something and I felt like I had to set an example for the other survivors, you know? If I fell apart, I suppose I felt they would to. But if I could go on and hold it together, maybe I could help others move on," her voice was barely audible.

Her eyes traveled down the table and were met by the pilot she had smiled at earlier. He was staring at her and she realized that he was an Alderaniaan.

"But maybe they needed to see that it was okay to grieve," Luke answered her softly.

"I never thought about that," she whispered back as she forced herself to break the trance between her and the pilot.

"It's never too late, you know - to grieve. Even a year later."

"I guess now I'm afraid that if I open those flood gates, I'll drown in the storm," she answered as she squirmed in her seat and looked around the room.

Just then, the lights dimmed and the music softened. Leia watched as couples began to migrate together towards the dance floor.

"Well, I know I grew up on a desert planet and all, but it seems to me that you _open_ the flood gates so you _won't_ drown in the storm," Luke countered her with a quiet wisdom that momentarily surprised her. He was doing more and more of that lately, she noted.

Leia scanned the room and let her eyes land on the dance floor, it had become a sea of swaying, dancing couples and she became mesmerized by it.

Luke threw his arm around her and squeezed her at the shoulders. She inhaled a quick breath and after a brief moment, she let out it out and let herself relax against Luke's chest. Giving her one more squeeze Luke said, "We're gonna be alright, Leia. You'll see."

Leia felt a swell of feelings creep up her chest and into her throat. She swallowed hard and took another deep breath, as she straightened up and felt Luke take his arm from around her shoulders.

"Care to dance, Princess?" Leia watched as Luke spun around at the sound the pilot's voice. It was the Alderaniaan from their table. He looked at Leia with nervous hope in his eyes.

Quickly convincing herself that one dance couldn't hurt, she glanced at Luke and then looked up to the Alderaniaan pilot and offered him her hand. He led her onto the dance floor as they made their way through the intricate maze of couples that the hangar floor had become.

Her dance partner didn't say anything to her as he kept a respectable distance between them. Leia enjoyed the fact that he was a good dancer and every now and then they caught each other's eyes and smiled. He smelled like Luke and Han, of jet fuel, grease and macro fusers. He wore a civilian shirt and slacks and as the rest of the room faded around the two of them, it was as if they could have been anywhere.

The blush warming her cheeks made her remember what it felt like to experience something so innocent and exhilarating. She looked at his hand surrounding hers; it was warm and just a little sweaty. She tried to remember the last time she had made a boy nervous to be around her, nervous in a good way, that is. Perhaps he would walk her back to her table and they could talk and laugh for a little while and she could pretend that everything was not really as it was.

When the music was over he stopped and looked at her and she admired his cool, green eyes. His olive skin and dark hair reminded her of her father.

He lowered his head to hers and brushed his cheek up against her face as he tightened his grip on her arm. She could feel his breath on her ear and she suddenly became uncomfortable, attributing the tightness of his grip on her arm to some nervousness on his part.

"You shouldn't be alive, _Princess_," he whispered in her ear and he emphasized her title with disgust.

Leia felt a cool burst of perspiration paint her body as she quickly realized that he was not nervous, but very angry.

"I'm sorry?" she stammered as her body froze.

He tightened his grip on her bicep, causing her to wince. Pulling his head away from her he looked her in the eyes as he growled at her through clenched teeth, "You're _sorry_?"

Leia felt faint as she stared at him, his eyes were dancing with fury and rage. "Please let go of me," she requested in a cool, steady voice.

"_I'm_ sorry, Princess. But your even being here is an abomination to us all," he added with hatred.

They stood there locked in this gaze they shared; hate and anger on one side and fear and guilt on the other. Leia's vision tunneled and she felt as if the room had begun to spin.

The pilot finally released her arm and she felt the blood rush back into the vessels that had been caught in his vice grip. Leia stumbled back away from the dance floor and turned around - scrambling to find her bearings as she headed for the door.

Nearing the exit, she heard a familiar voice calling her name, causing her to slow her footsteps.

"Hey, what happened?" It was Han. She watched his face fall when he saw her. She imagined that his shattered expression must have mirrored her own.

"What's wrong? What did he say to you?" Han questioned her as he grabbed the same arm the pilot had just relinquished.

As she winced at his touch, Leia saw anger and fury flash in a man's eyes for the second time that evening, but this time it wasn't directed at her.

"Did he hurt you?" Han pressed as Leia could only stare at him, silenced by the myriad of emotions that were swirling inside of her.

She heard Chewie grunt something to Han and as she focused on the Wookiee, she noticed that he and Luke were standing behind Han and she wondered how long they had been there.

"No, I'm gonna get her outta here. I'll meet you back at the _Falcon_," Han spoke quickly and his voice was hushed.

"Leia?" she heard Luke whisper her name.

"I'm fine, Luke, really."

She watched as Chewie walked away and Han shot Luke a look that caused the Jedi to mumble a goodnight and follow suit. Han had to call her name twice before she let her eyes drift back to meet his.

"What the hell, Leia?" Han asked desperately. "Tell me what he said to you."

Finally relenting to her unresponsiveness, Han gently draped his arm around her and sidled up beside her as he began to move her towards the exit.

They walked that way in silence until they found themselves standing outside of her quarters. She palmed her door open and finally found her voice and whispered, "It's not his fault. He had every right." Her voice sounded like she had just swallowed a mouthful of Tatooine desert sand.

Han just stared at her, deciphering her words like they were in an unknown language. Finally, as if carefully weighing all of his options and the infinite multitude of pros and cons attached with them, he gathered her up into his arms as he said, "C'mere. He had no right. Whatever he said, he was wrong. But it's over now."

Before she knew what she was doing, Leia buried her head into his chest and croaked, "It's not over. It'll never be over, not for me."

She felt him usher her inside of her room and the sound of the door sliding closed behind them coincided with the onslaught of tears that she found she was unable to hold back any longer. Like prisoners during a jailbreak they poured out of her eyes, seizing this opportunity so uncharacteristically afforded to them. For a moment she felt incapable of moving, or comprehending what was going on or even trying to compose herself. But as the feel of Han Solo's hands rubbing up and down her back slowly caused the entire scene to come into focus, she pressed her hands against his chest and stepped out of his embrace.

Turning away from him, she wiped her face and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

"You can leave now, Captain," she replied, her back still to him.

"Leia."

He said it simply and it shot through her like rays of sunlight through transparisteel. She turned to look at him and he just stared at her. The pilot's words from earlier whispered through her mind and she shook her head, buried her face into her hands and without saying a word she felt Han walk towards her and pull her back into his strong embrace.

The tears reemerged with a vengeance and before she could stop herself she was sobbing uncontrollably. Han pulled her closer to him and said, "Just let it out. I promise I won't let anyone know that you're not made of stone."

"I'm fine," she cried into his chest between sobs.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered to her as he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

Her arms were bent and trapped between them and she fought the urge to wrap them around his torso to complete his embrace. The warmth radiating from Han's body and that familiar scent she had recognized just moments ago on the dance floor brought those pilot's words swirling through her mind yet again, _You shouldn't be alive, Princess_. She slammed her eyes shut as if she could stop them from penetrating her mind and the ache inside of her chest swelled to the point of torture. Taking several deep breaths, she began to compose herself as she whispered, "Let me go, please."

"It's alright. Let me be here for you."

"I don't _need_ you to be here for me," she answered as she began to press her forearms lightly against his chest.

"Of course, you don't," he replied as he tightened his arms around her and let out what sounded to be a half chuckle. "You know, you may have everyone else fooled, but I know that you're just a real person, somewhere behind that smart mouth of yours. And that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not _ashamed_," she answered as she relaxed her arms and let out a sniffle.

This time she was rewarded with a genuine chuckle as he responded, "Do you have to disagree with everything I say?"

She let out a deep breath and replied "Yes," before she quickly added, "it makes me happy." He laughed again and she chuckled with him as she realized her tears were stopping.

"Well then, if disagreeing with me makes you happy. Then…I guess…you want me to go?"

Leia didn't respond. She smiled against his chest. To disagree with him would mean she wanted him to stay. Truth be told, she felt safe in his arms.

"You were supposed to disagree with me," he chided after a couple of moments of silence as he gave her a squeeze.

Finally, she sighed and said, "I think I'm okay now."

"You sure?" He questioned without loosening his grasp.

"Yes." She wriggled just a little and he let her out of his arms. He looked at her without saying anything so she added, "Thank you."

"Any time," he replied as he took a step back and looked down at her. He looked so large looming over her like that and she guessed she must've looked very small standing beneath him wiping her eyes and sniffling like she was. He shuffled on his feet before he finally whispered, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, thank you, Captain," she responded, straightening herself up and taking a deep breath.

He looked at her for a long moment and then she watched him as he turned to leave her cabin, finally she whispered, "Han?" He turned around to look at her, and she said, "Goodnight."

He gave her a lopsided grin and a wink as he said, "Goodnight, Leia," and then turned and left her cabin without another word.

She climbed into her bunk and struggled to fall asleep for a long while. She couldn't say that it felt good to cry because she felt wretched and she tossed and turned in her bunk as the night replayed over and over again in her mind. But now that she had cried it was like tasting something that she didn't even realize she had been craving. Like finally being able to scratch that place on your back that had been itching but you just couldn't quite reach before. Like some kind of seal was broken that she would never be able to shut tight again.

_Oh! But who did I have to have my minor breakdown in front of?_ She lamented. _Han Solo, of all people!_ She cringed at the thought of his reaction to her after this - his teasing. Oh, what ammunition he had on her now. She began to concentrate on any upcoming supply trips and wondered which would be the lengthiest so that she could send Han off base for awhile. Having something constructive to occupy her thoughts seemed to relax her and she finally succumbed to a restless sleep.

Exiting her cabin the next morning the princess headed towards the Officer's Mess to find some strong kaffe. Her head was pounding and she felt thoroughly exhausted. Halfway to the mess hall, she ran into that pilot from the night before. She could only stare at his fresh black eye in confusion while he delivered his rehearsed apology. By the end of the week she heard that he had gotten transferred.

Han Solo never said a word.

Of course, she realized what the enigmatic smuggler must have done. As she let herself reflect on it, she admitted that this was only one example of little ways that he had watched out for her or taken care of her over the past year - all the while trying to hide it with his arrogance, teasing and bravado.

She tried to reconcile her feelings for him, finding it nearly impossible. Han's affect on her, she reflected, was like spilling a sticky liquid onto a mechanical. As much as she might try to clean it up and wipe it away, some remnants of it would always remain and she would never knew when it would begin to cause her trouble…


	6. Chapter Six  The Rebel

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Six: The Rebel

Almost a year and a half into his association with the Alliance, Han Solo found himself on the third mission that warranted the Rebel princess's direct involvement. Leia's role as procurement officer had grounded her from participating in many off-base missions, but there had been a couple of occasions, like the one he found himself in now, where the Princess of Alderaan had been summoned to appear in person.

Han Solo had made no secret of the fact that he insisted on accompanying her on any such missions. He would be damned to allow one of those other bumbling idiots to take charge of her safety and well-being. Fortunately, he had not met with much resistance with these requests from High Command or anyone else for that matter, except, of course, for the princess herself. He only took her protests and turned them into further proof of her affinity to him, in that uncanny way that only he could do – which only served to infuriate her more.

And so, he had found himself at the end of their mission with a free night on their hands. Seeing as it was such a successful mission, Han had convinced Leia, and taken full responsibility for it, to let the operatives have a night out at a local pub. While the princess and the pilot would not usually define a successful mission in the same way - Han defining it as a mission where no one had actually shot at him or at his beloved ship and Leia defining it as a mission that yielded more credits or supplies to her beloved Rebellion - at least the pair was able to agree that this particular mission had been a success, being that it had met all of their required criteria.

Han had entered the local pub several hours ago and had greedily inhaled the familiar, intoxicating aroma. It seemed no matter what planet you were on, low-grade liquor, exhaled smoke, the musky stench of cheap perfume and sweat earned by a dishonest living always smelled the same.

Sitting at his barstool, he sipped on his whiskey and took to cataloging the numerous operatives sprinkled about the dark room that were now in his charge. He had contented himself that all were accounted for, when a tall female sauntered towards him and grabbed the stool next to him.

She ordered a whiskey straight up and on the rocks.

Feeling his body sink further and further onto his bar stool, Han was pleased at how easily he fell right back into the comfortable atmosphere of drunken sentients, disheartened gamblers and hardened criminals. Maybe he hadn't lost it after all.

It wasn't long before the tall female spoke to him.

"You're not from around here," she stated.

"Far from it," Han answered as he sipped at his whiskey.

"You a pilot?"

"More like an _independent_ spacer," Han answered. It felt good to say it even though he knew how far from independent he had let himself get. He even let out a quick chuckle at his own expense.

"You're a bit cagey, aren't ya?" The lady eyed him with a smile as she sipped on her whiskey. Then turning to him she added, "I deal in spare parts. Most pilots are always looking for upgrades, I find."

This piqued Han's interest. There was nothing that intrigued him more than upgrading the _Falcon_. As he turned to her he realized she was quite beautiful and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. She wore her top like a second skin, and it plunged down in front low enough to make Luke Skywalker blush. She wore tight, shiny leggings that reflected the low light of the bar, highlighting every curve.

Han began to doubt she dealt in spare parts at all. Many professional women knew which topics to throw as bait for an unsuspecting off-worlder. Best case scenario he would follow her to her "shop" and be offered another kind of service for a price. Worst case scenario he would follow her to her "shop" and get clobbered on the head and robbed. Han wasn't interested in either scenario.

"I'm all set, thanks," he replied as he turned back towards the crowded room and began to take inventory of his men again.

As he took another pull from his cheap whiskey, he eyed another female who had just entered the bar. _Damn woman!_ It was the princess and there was nothing tight or shiny or plunging about anything she had on. Somehow something about her made Han's neck burn though. He watched her closely as her eyes seemed to scan the room, no doubt taking inventory just as he had been doing the entire night. What was it about her and letting go and having a good time?

"Hey, what's your name?" the "spare parts dealer" inquired.

Han ignored her as he watched Princess Leia catch his eye and begin to approach him purposefully. His mind began racing and his palms became clammy as the princess drew nearer. All of a sudden he felt like he should make an excuse for why she was about to catch him talking to some woman in a bar. He thought of how ridiculous that was, but his mind continued to race all the same.

As he slowly drug his hands against his pants, wiping the sweat from his palms, Han wondered what the hell was happening to him and blamed anything peculiar with his actions on the bewitching woman at the crux of it all that was barreling his way. Chewie would tell him that he wasn't thinking straight because he hadn't bedded anyone in months and Han was beginning to think the Wookiee had a point. Han had intentionally refrained from fooling around with any of the available women on base lest the princess should hear about it; initially taking care of his needs while off-base on other planets. But then, before he realized it, he had abstained from all female contact in favor of thinking of, dreaming about, and hoping to be with Leia.

Han watched as the princess sidled up to the bar, placing herself between him and the local spare parts dealer. Leia's unique scent clashed with the familiar smell that filled the seedy bar. Hers so innocent and intoxicating, Han smiled at her dumbly.

Leia looked at him, momentarily puzzled and then she shook her head and said, "Excuse me, can I talk to you?"

"Um, _excuse_ me, but I was here first, missy. Go find yourself somebody else, he's spoken for," the female parts dealer interjected. Then as Han watched, almost in slow motion, the woman placed her hand on Leia's shoulder and twisted the princess away from him so that Leia was now facing the both of them.

A vision of Leia disabling the woman with a well-placed hit on her neck, or pulling a blaster and leveling her that way, flashed through Han's mind. Both scenarios were more than a possibility, he thought to himself, as Leia certainly knew how to take care of herself. However, she did neither of those things. In fact, her body language relaxed and she smiled sweetly as she replied, "Oh, well, that's just wonderful news."

Leia was smiling at him and he knew that this stranger and most probably himself, were in deep trouble. Unfortunately, the female parts dealer didn't know who she was dealing with so she replied, "Oh, yeah. Why's that?"

Leia's smiling eyes left Han's and she turned her attention to the woman as she said, "I'm just so happy he's found someone that can look past that horrible rash and the fact that he lives with his mother."

"Um, what?" The woman stammered as she began to stand up.

"Now, wait a minute," Han finally decided to say something, but one cool look from Leia made him content to stop there.

"Yes, and the kids will be so happy to meet you, too," Leia continued as she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.

The woman shot her eyes away from Leia and found Han's as she said, "An independent spacer, huh?" Leia dropped her hand from the woman's shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest as the woman turned her gaze back to Leia and walked away saying, "I'm outta here, you can have 'im."

As Han watched the woman walk away, he found Leia looking at him and he asked, "What part of _uninterrupted furlough_ didn't you understand?"

Leia just shook her head and replied, "Where is Lieutenant Riggs?"

Her arms were still crossed over her chest as Han's eyes left hers and began to scan the pub.

"Don't bother. Do you think I would be asking you where he was if he was in this room, Captain?"

"Well, if you know he's not here then what are you bothering me for?"

She uncrossed her arms and grabbed him by the bicep, giving it a very tight squeeze as she brought her face up close to his and spoke through her clenched teeth as she said, "You _promised_ me that everyone would stay in the pub, that you would take responsibility for everyone. Where. Is. Lieutenant. Riggs?"

"Alright. Alright," He tried stalling as he stood up and began formulating some sort of plan that would prevent him from being killed by the last remaining member of the House of Organa. "Let's jus-" and then he saw Lieutenant Riggs walk into the bar. He didn't look quite right, he was walking fast and looked a little nervous, but at least Han had found him.

Han watched him and smiled as he spoke over Leia's head and said, "Lieutenant Riggs, we were just talking about you."

Leia spun around to see Riggs standing behind her and then a woman's voice called out, "Gavin!" which happened to be Riggs' first name and then all hell broke loose.

Before Han could blink, the entire pub had become a shooting gallery. Operatives were ducking behind overturned tables and that woman that had called Riggs' name was being held by an Imperial. Only thing worse than that, was that she was holding a godsdamn baby in her arms. That kind of put a damper on anyone wanting to shoot back at the damn Imps.

Han pulled Leia down behind the nearest overturned table with him and Riggs and began to carefully return fire at the Imperials. Had it just been the Alliance operatives against the few Imps that had shown up, Han was pretty sure this party would have already been over. But, unfortunately, the locals had joined in the fray and not all of them were Rebel sympathizers.

Han tried to keep an eye on Leia while he worked on keeping his own head from being blown off. He cursed as he watched her crawl away from him and then get into a scuffle with the barkeep. The sound of blaster fire whizzing past his ear caused him to focus back on the two remaining Imps.

Han delivered a direct hit to the second-to-last remaining Imperial and watched him fall. The blaster fire then began to dwindle as the only Imp left was holding a woman that was holding a screaming baby. Han looked over at Leia and saw that she was huddled behind a barstool; apparently her battle had been won. As the remaining Imp began to hurl orders of surrender around the room, Han's head jerked back around at the sound of blaster fire coming from beside him.

Han looked at Riggs and then over to that last Imperial, and then back at Riggs again in disbelief. Riggs had just delivered a kill shot to the head of the Imp holding onto that woman. Han couldn't wrap his head around it at first, thinking no sane man would have even taken that shot. But Riggs had. _He dropped that Imp faster than a female parts dealer drops an independent spacer with a rash_, Han thought to himself in awe.

The woman ran to Riggs and he held her in a tight embrace. Han slowly came to his feet and then, gathering everybody up, they all headed back to the _Falcon. _Once they arrived, Han ushered everyone up the _Falcon's_ gangway including a woman and a screaming baby and one angry princess. Make that one _livid_ princess, barking orders as soon as the _Falcon's_ gangway was sealed shut.

First Leia ordered everyone into the holds - except Han, Chewie, Riggs and the woman and baby. Then, she ordered any uninjured operatives to tend to the injured and she made it clear that _no one_ was to come out until someone came and got them.

Finally, turning to Lieutenant Riggs, she asked, "Lieutenant, do you care to explain yourself? Do you care to explain why you put not only our entire mission but every single one of your fellow operatives at risk by letting your _girlfriend_-"

"She's not my girlfriend, ma'am," he replied through clenched teeth.

Leia's eyes left Riggs and looked at the woman. The baby had calmed down and the woman took to looking at the floor under Leia's piercing stare. "Then who is she, Leiutenant? Who have you risked _my_ life, and everyone else's for?"

Han watched the woman jump at Leia's every word and finally feeling like he should say something, he offered, "Look, Leia, take it easy, huh?"

"Take it easy? Take it easy, Captain? Taking it easy is exactly what got us into this mess in case you have forgotten!"

"She's my sister," Riggs whispered, causing all of them to look back at him.

"_Excuse me_, Lieutenant?" Leia asked with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"I'm sorry, please don't be mad at him," the woman finally spoke and she began to sob.

"You better start talking, Lieutenant," Leia's voice was low and calm.

"This is the town I grew up in. I wanted to check on my family. I didn't know what I would find," Riggs began.

"This is your home planet, Lieutenant? And you didn't think that was relevant information to disclose during debriefings?" Leia pressed and Han watched as her mind digested the Lieutenant's words and she added, "That is _not_ what your personnel records indicate, Lieutenant Riggs." Leia memorized every detail of this mission, including the personnel files of her operatives. She was quite incredible in that regard.

"No, I left home years ago. I listed my last planet of residence as my home planet," Riggs continued.

Leia shook her head at the man's words and Han noticed her face was turning pale and she was beginning to sweat, "Alright. Walk me through, _quickly_, what happened and why did your sister bring the Imperials back with her."

"I didn't bring them back!" The woman screeched out at Leia and then added, "I was trying to escape!"

Leia watched the woman and then turned to Riggs for more information. Riggs added, "She's not an Imp, she wanted to leave. I was coming back to talk to you about it, but, my brother and her husband had already followed us back."

"Your _brother_?" Leia asked incredulously.

"Yes, he was the one holding Lana." Lana was Riggs' sister, and Leia, Han and Chewie all exchanged glances as they realized that Riggs had just told them that he shot his own brother to save his sister.

Leia brought her hand up to her forehead and rubbed it like she was trying to absorb what Riggs had said. After taking a long deep breath, she brought her head up slowly and said, "Han, Chewie, can you get us out of here?"

Chewie turned and walked towards the cockpit without a word as Han responded, "Yeah, no problem."

"What about Lana and the baby?" Riggs asked Leia with a pleading voice.

"Take them into the Captain's cabin and stay there until you hear otherwise," Leia answered him sternly. Han noticed that she looked totally spent. She turned to him and added softly, "Let's go, Captain."

Leia sat in the navigation chair behind the pilot's seat and started typing on her datapad while Chewie and Han hopped over to the next port and got an early clearance to leave the planet. As soon as they jumped into hyperspace, Han turned to Leia and asked, "You mind telling me what we're going to do with a woman and a kid once we land on base?"

Leia quit typing and brought her head up to look at him as she said, "You were in charge of that _furlough_, Captain. What's _your_ plan?"

"Oh, I get it. You're just going to let me take the fall for this? I would've left them on-planet if that was the case," he huffed while he released his crash webbing and stood up.

"Is that right?" Leia questioned as she unclasped her restraints and looked at him.

"No," he answered sheepishly.

"Alright then. Here," she said as she stood up and handed him her datapad and added, "Read that and then meet me in the medical bay."

Han watched her leave and then looked down at the datapad in his hand. He glanced over the mission report she'd been typing up and as he got near the end, he began to realize what had happened. Tossing the datapad down and heading to the medical bay, he cursed, "Sithspit! That damn woman!" Her pale skin, the way she was sweating and her appearance…all making sense as he ran to find her.

Han entered the medical bay and Leia was sitting on the bunk. She had one naked leg sticking out from under the blanket and she started talking to him as soon as he entered the room, "I've cleaned the wound, but I'm going to need several sutures."

"You were _wounded_ that whole time? Typing up that report! While you let yourself bleed to death!" he was yelling at her as he approached the bunk, all the while looking at the large gash on her milky, white thigh. Gods, he loved her legs…

"I didn't exactly bleed to death, Captain. Did you read the report?" She was calm and in total control. Unlike him, he had come unglued. He hated when she put everything else in front of her own safety.

"Yeah, I read it," he stated flatly as he examined her wound.

She took in a sharp intake of breath when he manipulated the wound on her thigh, but she kept to the mission as she added, "Then we have an understanding?"

"Yeah," he replied absently while he grabbed the medical kit and began to dig for what he needed and added, "We have an understanding."

"And we're clear on what must be done and that you will have to take full responsibility for it?"

He held the hypospray up and made sure he had the right dosage before he responded, "Yeah, we're clear."

"Alright then, I'll be out for at least twelve hours. I trust this gives you enough time to do what you need to do."

"Yeah, plenty," he answered her as he sat down on the bunk next to her, holding the hypo in his hand.

"Captain?" she said simply.

"Yes?"

"I had to remove my fatigues to get to the wound," she started and his eyes immediately fell to her naked, milky, white thigh rubbing up next to him as she continued, "I trust you will be a complete gentleman once I'm under."

Jerking his thoughts quickly out of the gutter that they had fallen into at the sight of all that skin, he dragged his eyes back up her body to find hers and say, "What? I mean…yeah. Um…do you want me to get Chewie?" _Real smooth, Solo_.

Leia chuckled and then turned serious again as she placed her tiny hand on his forearm and gave it a squeeze as she said, "No. I trust you, Captain."

Well, more than any screaming tirade or long-winded lecture would have done, her words hit him hard; like a stun gun to the chest. He was more than certain she knew that they would. Shaking his head and smiling at her, he finally said, "Alright. I'll see you when you wake up."

Han held her gaze while he pressed the hypo to her neck and administered the sedative. Her eyes fluttered shut and he got to work on her wound. He was a complete gentleman. After he was done dressing her wound, he returned to the cockpit and put the rest of the mission into motion.

It seems that while Leia sat there and let that leg wound bleed out, she had written the rest of the mission out for him. Only, it wasn't _exactly_ what was going to happen; she sort of wrote their cover story. So, according to the mission notes, after Leia was sedated for a leg wound, the _Falcon_ began to have mechanical trouble over a neighboring planet. Han pushed his pride aside at the fact that Leia made his beloved ship break down - the _Falcon_ did enough of that on her own - but he figured it was no time to argue that.

Now this planet that Leia had mapped out for them to land on for repairs just so happened to have a strong Rebellion presence, including a safe house network where a lot of the Alliance personnel's family lived. He knew without her saying that she wanted him to get Lana and that baby into that network and that's exactly what they did. All while Leia was sedated.

She had figured out how to bend the rules to get Riggs and all of them out of this mess, but she didn't want be a part of it. Not because she didn't want it to happen; of course she did, she thought of it. But she was a stickler for the rules and if she had been coherent during the entire thing then she would've been forced to turn in a vastly different report. This way, everybody won. They got Lana and the baby to safety and, by all accounts, Leia wasn't actively involved in anything.

Han was sitting in the Captain's chair, staring into the muddled sky of hyperspace when Leia came hobbling into the cockpit.

"Anything happen while I was sedated, Captain?" she asked with a sigh as she lowered herself into Chewie's seat.

Han watched her with a whole new reason to be in awe of her, like there weren't several hundred of them piled up in the back of his head already. He replied with a smile, "We had some mechanical problems and were forced to land for repairs."

She turned her gaze away from him and looked out the viewport as she said, "I trust you found all the parts you needed to make the necessary repairs."

"Yes. It's all in your report, exactly how it happened," he replied, thinking to himself: _Who is this woman? And how in the galaxy am I lucky enough to be sitting here talking to her?_

"Very well," she replied with a sigh as she stood up and began to walk out of the cockpit.

He grabbed her hand and she looked down at him as he said, "Thanks, Leia. You did a real good thing."

She looked down at his hand on hers and then up to his eyes as she replied softly, "I didn't do anything, Captain. I was sedated, remember?"

She pulled her hand from within his grasp and walked over to the cockpit door, but before she left she spoke to him, all the while not looking at him but speaking into the closed door in front of her, "Thanks for tending to my wound, Captain. Thanks…," she stalled and he could see her shaking her head as she continued, "Thanks for everything."

He watched her leave, staring at the empty space she had vacated for a long time. An emptiness seemed to creep inside of his chest somewhere and all he wanted to do was to go and find her to help him fill it. But he shrugged it off as Chewie entered the cockpit, walking through the place that he had been staring at, breaking the spell.

They landed back on base and Han accompanied Leia to the debriefing. Riggs was a nervous wreck about what was going to happen to him. Han and Leia had told him as little as possible and as far as Riggs and all the other operatives were concerned, Han had acted on his own accord while Leia was sedated. That was what they had agreed to.

After the debriefing, Han headed to the hangar and was greeted by Riggs and the other guys involved. He gave them the all-clear and they were thanking him and shaking his hand in gratitude. He looked up and caught sight of Leia watching from the other side of the hangar. She gave him a subtle nod and then turned on her heels and walked away.

She had made him the hero and herself out as the tightly-wound-superior-officer who would've never gone for that plan; a plan that she herself had created and put into motion. Han jumped up several notches on everybody's good-guy list and Leia's reputation as the Ice Princess started to take shape. That is, for everyone except: one particular Wookiee, the last remaining Jedi and a cocky smuggler…


	7. Chapter Seven  Traditions

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Seven: Traditions

Leia Organa walked towards the large assembly area along with almost every other member of the Rebel Alliance. High Command had called for a special debriefing. Leia already knew what they were going to say.

"Hey, beautiful," Han Solo whispered in her ear as he came up from behind her and slung his arm over her shoulder. Leia flinched at his gesture. This familiarity was something she had reluctantly allowed on a few occasions when they were off-base, but did not appreciate in front of their current audience. Han must have read her reaction because he immediately pulled his arm away.

"What's this all about? I _know_ you must already know," Han continued, seemingly unaffected by the slight.

Leia stopped outside of the assembly room doors and then moved to the side to allow those personnel behind her to pass. Han followed her and kept himself in close proximity to the princess. She looked around and grabbing his arm to turn him away from curious onlookers, she offered, "We've just gotten word that construction is nearly complete on our new base."

"Construction?" Han asked, somewhat confused. Most Alliance bases utilized already assembled buildings that had been abandoned or donated, with any new construction completed by base personnel _after_ their arrival. "Where the hell are we goin'?"

Leia smiled at Han's choice of words; their new base was about as far from hell as you could get. Something else about his words struck her, but not in an amusing sort of way. She looked up at him and asked, "So, you'll be coming with us, then?"

The tired game of 'Will Han Solo leave forever during the next evacuation?' seemed to be less and less an issue lately. Han spoke little of leaving anymore, yet he still continued to refuse offers of a commission. Leia knew that fact from a very reliable source.

"Yeah," Han answered like it was a ridiculous question to begin with. "Where're we goin'?" he pressed.

Leia looked around again. The hall had become empty and she did not wish to arrive at the debriefing late. She answered him in a hushed voice, "Well, _I'm_ going to Hoth."

"Hoth?" Han exclaimed and Leia winced at how loud his voice echoed in the empty corridor. "That's an ice ball, not a planet!"

"Exactly. We're hoping the Empire would be hard-pressed to find us on a planet that can barely support human life."

"So instead of the Empire killing us, we're just going to kill ourselves, then?"

Leia shook her head. She had already voiced her protests on the feasibility of setting up a viable base on Hoth. Now it was going to happen and she had to stand behind High Command's decision, like it or not. "All the preparations have been made. It will be perfectly safe and hospitable," Leia repeated the words utilized by the High Command in their arguments. She felt like a hypocrite using them in an argument of her own.

"Hospitable? I'd like to hear just what your definition of hospitable is, princess."

"I don't know how many times I have to remind you that we are at war, not on a holiday."

"Believe me, I know we're at war even without your constant reminders," Han shot back. Then as if her words from earlier had just sunk into his thick skull, he asked, "What do you mean _you're_ going to Hoth?"

"There's going to be a reallocation of Alliance personnel."

"Can you expand on that? In Basic, please?"

Leia took a deep breath and continued, "Not everyone will be assigned to Hoth, Captain. We'll be receiving personnel from the other divisions and some of our personnel will be assigned to replace them."

Leia watched his reaction with great interest. She already knew that both Han and Luke would be coming to Hoth with her; one by luck and one by her own hand.

Han had not ventured a comment so Leia continued, "_You_ may or may not be going to Hoth, Captain." She hoped his reaction might prove enlightening.

"But you are?" he inquired. "Definitely going to Hoth," he added in confirmation.

Her eyes darted back and forth between his, trying to gauge his reaction. Unsure herself what she was looking for or even why it mattered, she felt compelled to test him on this.

_Damn his Sabacc face!_ "Yes," she finally replied as she skirted around him and entered the assembly room. Finding her seat she sat through the meeting feeling just slightly off-balance but never truly understanding why.

The news of both the relocation to Hoth and splitting up the troops went over like a dust storm on Tatooine. Everyone was used to sacrifice and loss, but that didn't mean it made it any easier to deal with it when it happened. To make matters worse, if that was possible, High Command announced that final personnel allocations wouldn't be announced until immediately prior to the evacuation which would not happen for another three weeks.

* * *

Nearly three weeks later, walking from her office outside the supply warehouse towards her quarters near the Command Center, Leia Organa thought that she could hear music and laughter somewhere in the distance. Without warning, a memory flashed through her of a young princess being hurried off to bed while the hallways of the manor house still reeked of perfume, liquor, music and laughter.

"_But _why_ do I have to go to bed now?"_

"_Because Mommy says so, darling. It's very late and time for all little princesses to go to bed."_

Leia opened her eyes and shook her head as she realized that she had stopped walking. The ghost of her mother's presence seemed to brush by her like a cool breeze on a hot day, not lingering long enough for her to truly enjoy it. Blinking several times to control the moisture that was building up in her eyes, Leia began to walk again towards the unusual ruckus that was drawing her like a Jawa to a golden droid.

At the end of the long hallway in the large curved entrance to the Rebel hangar, stood a woman leaning up against the stone wall, her back was to Leia. The princess walked up and paused next to the woman as she joined her in looking at the bustle of activity set out before them.

There were several different types of music coming from a handful of radios that seemed to be competing to drown each other out. Pilots, operatives, and other Rebels danced around the hangar to whichever beat they chose to hear. Colorful, garnished, alcoholic concoctions were not absent in one single person's hand and on more than one occasion, one person simultaneously sipped on two drinks at a time.

Drunken Rebels were lounging and climbing on X-wings and A-wings and freighters were opened up for party-goers to traipse in and out of like an open house. Decorations hung and swayed in the cool breeze that swept through the hangar from the opened shield doors. The aroma of flame-grilled meat, ale and smoke assaulted Leia's nostrils and awakened her from the mystified trance she had fallen into.

"What _is_ all this?" She asked the female officer standing next to her as she kept her eyes focused on the amazing scene ahead of her in disbelief. Leia had placed the woman as an intelligence operative; a fairly successful code breaker by the name of Ava – if she recalled correctly.

Ava straightened herself up and glanced at the princess as she answered, "I don't know, something Wedge Antilles and Captain Solo, among some others, put together. Some sort of Corellian tradition."

"_This_ is a tradition?"

"Yes," Ava chuckled at the princess's reaction and then added, "and as far as I can tell, the tradition consists mainly of getting drunk and making a fool out of yourself."

"Sounds very _Corellian_ to me," Leia offered.

"High Command approved it," Ava replied, as if worried the princess had ideas of breaking up the party. "But I do think they were given a very _condensed_ description_,_" she confessed.

"I'm sure."

"Won't you join in?"

"Oh, I don't know," the princess finally turned to meet the Rebel in the eye. Leia thought that her offer was sincere.

Ava looked like a very young woman, but Leia guessed that she may actually be a few years older than herself. She had a sweet innocence about her that, Leia suspected, most probably belied her true age. She had dark, black hair cut into a short, tousled mop that added to her little girl looks. She was taller than Leia, but only slightly so and when she spoke and smiled, she radiated an impression that she was your friend, stranger or not. Leia thought the woman was a total contradiction - a highly trained code-breaker with thousands of Rebel secrets in her head that looked like an innocent school girl who couldn't keep a secret past lunch time.

"C'mon, Your Highness," Ava smiled at her as she broke into the princess's thoughts. "We all deserve to blow off a little steam."

Leia contemplated the situation. It didn't surprise her that High Command had let this happen. The entire base had been on pins and needles since that huge announcement a few weeks ago. Leia had been privy to several conversations surrounding improving the morale of the troops, especially before relocating them to a cooped up base on a frigid planet. _Leave it to Han Solo to pounce on the chance to throw a party._

"I'll consider it, thank you," Leia responded politely and then added, as she spotted Luke Skywalker approaching, "Please, you go ahead. I'd like to speak to Commander Skywalker."

"Oh. Okay. Tell Luke I said hello," Ava replied as she disappeared towards the hangar.

"Will do," Leia replied to Ava's retreating figure.

"Leia! You came," Luke walked up to the princess, a nearly empty drink in his hand.

"I can see how that's surprising, seeing how I wasn't invited."

"Oh," Luke replied sheepishly. "Well, it was all sort of last minute. We really didn't expect High Command to approve it."

"That's alright, Luke. I'm not one for parties anyway."

"Aw, c'mon, Leia. At least come have a drink with me. These things are incredible!"

"I'll take your word for it," Leia responded doubtfully.

"Luke! C'mon!"

Both Luke and Leia turned towards the shouting voice. It was Ava. Luke turned back to look at Leia with flushed cheeks.

"Well, go ahead, Luke. Don't let me stop you," Leia said smiling.

"Ya sure? I mean, I can hang around," Luke stammered.

"No, really. Have a good time. I'll see you later."

"Alright then. Later, Leia," Luke replied as he turned and walked towards a waiting Ava.

Leia watched Luke walk away and debated her next move. She was tempted to join the party, or at least to see what Han Solo was up to. But another part of her felt like retiring to her quarters to be alone. Something about parties in the middle of a war didn't sit well with Leia. Maybe it was because of what happened the last time she went to a Rebel gathering.

Curiosity finally got the better of the princess as she felt her feet moving her towards the _Millennium Falcon_. There was a small table set out at the end of the gangway and Leia recognized it as belonging to the supply warehouse. Chewie, Wedge, Han and Leesa, her supply officer, sat at the table playing a card game. Han was the first person to see her approaching.

"Hey, guys. Count me outta this hand," Han said as he stood up and watched Leia approach.

"What? That's not like you to walk away while you're up, Solo!" Wedge Antilles howled. Then upon seeing the princess approaching, he added a knowing, "Oh," and looked back down at his cards.

"Your Highness!" Han called out loudly as he walked around the card table and towards the princess.

"Captain Solo," Leia smiled as she greeted him and then looking at the members of the card game she said with a nod, "Chewie. Wedge. Leesa."

[Princess.] "Leia." "Your Highness." All three glanced up and returned her greeting before going back to their game.

"So, Solo. What is all this?" Leia asked suspiciously with half a grin.

"Uh, it's called the Corellian Carnavale ," Han offered.

Leia raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing.

"What? It's a valid tradition!"

"Alright," she said as she crossed her arms and tilted her hip. "So, tell me about it."

"Huh?"

"Tell me about the tradition. How did it originate? What does it honor or celebrate?"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, _that_."

Han smiled at her with that crooked grin that she was beginning to suspect he knew affected her in a strange way. Taking two steps towards her he said, "Life." And then, putting his arm around her he added, "It's a celebration of life."

She looked up at him and said, "Right."

He chuckled at her and giving her a quick squeeze, he said, "C'mon, let's go get a drink."

Han and Leia walked over to the bar in silence. Well, they didn't talk to _each other_ at least. Han had to shake hands and accept a thousand thank you's as he walked through the crowd like royalty. And Princess Leia smiled and said a few hellos as she walked through the crowd like an un-enlisted spacer…

Walking back towards the _Falcon_, each with a green alcoholic concoction in their hand, Leia began, "So, have you spoken to General Rieekan?"

"Yeah, I spoke to Rieekan," Han offered as he looked down at her. She felt like he wanted to put his arm around her again, so she walked a little away from him and then he added, "Looks like I'll be accompanying you to Hoth, Princess."

Eyes forward, she let a big smile cross her lips as she said, "I know."

"You know?" Han said, clearly faking his surprise. "Speak up for me, didya? Told 'em you couldn't live without me?"

"Not quite, Captain," Leia quipped. "Supplies will be a definite _problem_ on Hoth," she explained and then confessed, "I may have been asked who my best contact is."

"And you told 'em it was me?"

"Your numbers speak for themselves."

"Ah, but the numbers didn't speak for me," Han countered. Then gently taking the princess by the arm and stopping both of them, he waited until she looked up at him and added, "You did."

Leia felt a strange sensation pulsate through her as Han looked at her in that way that he sometimes did. For the longest time this look would always be followed up by a smart remark and an argument would soon erupt between the two, but lately, it was just the look - and then the silence. It was definitely disconcerting.

"I did what was best for the Alliance, Captain," Leia replied in her most formal tone.

"You keep telling yourself that, Your Highness," Han smiled at her and then he turned and they both began walking back towards the _Falcon_ as he added, "Maybe someday you'll believe it."

The pair made it back to the _Falcon_ and Han gathered up two chairs for them to sit and watch the activities. As Leia watched the party goers stumble around the hangar laughing and dancing, her mind wandered back to her days at university.

"This reminds me of college," she spoke out of the blue and Han turned to look at her.

"How so?"

"Every weekend the various social organizations would have these mixers."

"And you _mixed_?" Han asked as he hitched up an eyebrow and gave her a wide grin.

"Yes, well, I had this roommate my first year…" she started and then looked out at the crowd again.

"Go on."

"Well, she would drag me to these parties with her and the tradition was to bring your own cup," Leia continued as she turned to look at Han and said, "you know, a plastic cup you could write your name on and fill with ale."

"Right," he nodded and smiled at her like he just couldn't imagine her drinking ale from a disposable cup.

"Well, anyway, she would write on her cup 'Mia loves Rourke' or 'Mia loves Ash'. Every weekend she would somehow fall in love with someone new and he would get his own cup." Leia paused as she watched Han watching her intently with that look that confused her. She turned her attention back to the mingling crowd and then she continued, "And at the end of the semester she left all of her cups on the windowsill to be thrown away by housekeeping. It looked like a little graveyard of her lovers. I remember staring at them while I packed my carryall."

"Where was your graveyard?"

She turned to look at him and said, "I don't think I ever wrote a boy's name on one of my cups."

"Is that right?" He questioned her with a wide devilish grin that made her cheeks burn.

She smiled back at him and quickly changed the subject, "You know I smoked when I was at university." As he looked at her in confusion, she added, "I went absolutely wild my first year away. I basically did everything that my father wouldn't let me do while I lived at home."

"_Everything_?" Han asked incredulously.

She felt herself blush again and then looked away and chuckled as she clarified, "Well, maybe not _everything_, but I definitely…_rebelled_."

"Ah…I see," Han said slowly and as she turned to look at him he winked at her and said, "You've always been a rebel at heart."

He looked at her in that way again and she felt uncomfortable. What did it mean when he looked at her like that? She knew what she thought it meant, she thought it meant that he wanted her to write his name on her cup. _But, wait a second, this is Han Solo, for Sith's sake. He's incapable of loving anyone but himself. __Loving? Hmph. Stay away from that word or you will end up like Mia with "Leia loves Han" written on a plastic cup that is decomposing somewhere in a graveyard of broken hearts._

Still she wondered what it would be like, to fall in love. To write someone's name on a plastic cup and walk around with it for everyone to see. Could she ever be so silly? She certainly didn't allow herself to be silly back then and now it seemed she didn't have much of a choice. Maybe she should have written a couple of guys names on her cup when she had her chance… Leia smiled and wondered if she was still talking about plastic cups and as she felt her cheeks begin to burn again she turned away from Han and they both sat and watched the crowd around them and drank their green drinks in silence.


	8. Chapter Eight  Defrosting

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Eight: Defrosting

The _Millennium Falcon_ sat quietly in the corner of a small spaceport on a backwater planet. The three Rebels that were sleeping inside had their chronos set for an early morning departure. Han and Chewie had accompanied Leia to meet with an underground contact to trade information with the supplementary arms of the Rebellion. Secure holonet communications with coded messages sometimes just couldn't be replaced by good, old-fashioned, face-to-face data exchange.

The two un-enlisted smugglers were recruited to escort the princess to meet the contact and ensure her overall safety. Leia had met the contact and received the highly classified information that included…apparently nothing that she was comfortable in sharing with the two un-enlisted smugglers. The three enjoyed dinner at a local dive and the princess's escorts talked her into joining them for a few drinks at a seedy bar.

Stumbling back to the _Falcon_, Princess Leia had tried to take advantage of a drunken Han Solo, but definitely not in the way that he would have liked.

"I know you weren't raised by nerfs, no matter how bad your table manners!" The princess laughed at the reticent spacer.

"Have you ever seen a nerf attend a dinner party, Your Highnessness?" Han slurred at her.

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Well, then, how do you know that they might not surprise you?"

"I'll take your word for it," she giggled back at him and then held her tongue, and her elbow, in check as he slung his arm around her.

"What's your middle name, Captain?" Leia resumed her gentle inquiry.

"Han. Captain _Han_ Solo."

"Captain isn't your first name, Captain!"

"Okay, you got me. My middle name is…krethin'. Han Krethin' Solo."

"Oh, you're ridiculous!"

"Naw, sweetheart. I'm drunk."

Once aboard the _Falcon_, Chewie raised her gangway and locked the trio in as they all stumbled tiredly to their respective bunks. Several hours later, there was a delicate mixture of the wafting sounds of the hissing recycled air system, the hum of the refrigeration unit and the combined snores of a large Wookiee and a drunk Corellian. Timidly invading this quiet evening was a soft, blinking light that was accompanied by a gently beeping. If the pilot or the co-pilot of the vessel would have been at the helm, this invasion would have ended peaceably at that.

This light however, upon being seemingly ignored, began to increasingly strive to make its presence known. First there was a louder beeping and then more lights joined in, until finally an annoying buzz and blinding light began to penetrate the silence of the captain's quarters. Fortunately for this particular ship's captain, the captain wasn't sleeping in his quarters.

Han Solo was sleeping in the _Falcon's_ medical bunk and dreaming of Princess Leia. Dreaming of the beautiful princess was not very unusual for him. What was unusual was how real her voice sounded as she called out his name in ecstasy. He could almost feel her tiny hands pulling at his clothing…

"Han! Wake up!"

"Huh?" Han mumbled as he desperately fought off this intruding reality.

"There's some kind of coded transmission coming in," Leia was speaking to him, but her words were coming in way too fast for his groggy mind to process.

"Huh?"

"Oh, for Sith's sake! I told you not to drink so much!"

[I'll decode the transmission,] Han heard Chewie offer to the frazzled princess.

And then they finally left him alone and he quickly went back to his dream.

* * *

Han Solo woke with a headache. He also woke up to the sounds of his ship slipping into hyperspace. Either he had slept longer than he was supposed to, or something was wrong. Sitting up quickly, he immediately regretted the action. The small bunk room swirled around him as if the _Falcon_ was plummeting into a black hole. Placing his feet on the cool floor, Han closed his eyes for a brief moment as he swallowed the bile crawling threateningly up his throat.

Han couldn't remember the last time he felt like this. Although he enjoyed a nice glass of Corellian whiskey or brandy, sometimes every night, he never drank in excess…anymore. In his younger days, unfortunately, he couldn't say the same. But now, he certainly knew better. Years of experience had taught him how to handle his liquor; how to drink it and enjoy it. A life at the helm of a starship, usually on the run, had also taught him to practice moderation in this respect. So what in the nine hells of Corellia happened last night?

Not wanting to sound like a broken holonet transmission, Han tried to shove the name down in the recesses of his mind. _Leia. _It floated up to the surface stubbornly, like the woman who answered to it._ Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan_. That's what happened last night. That's what had happened to him every night for the past two years! What was this woman doing to him? Deciding that tackling that question in his current state was not such a great idea, Han stood up and headed towards the cockpit.

Figuring out why his ship was in hyperspace - now that was a much easier task.

Han entered the cockpit and found Chewie in the co-pilot's seat and one Princess Leia of Alderaan in his captain's chair. The sight both miffed him and impressed him at the same time. She was a fairly decent pilot, another thing Han liked about her, but Han didn't like anyone piloting his ship but him. Yet somehow he couldn't muster his usual annoyance over the situation. _Hmph, that's strange_.

"What's going on?" Han spoke first as Chewie and Leia turned to watch him enter the cockpit.

[How's your head?] Chewie growled.

"We received a coded transmission from the Alliance early this morning," Leia began to speak as she turned her attention back to the Falcon's controls. "We tried to wake you up," she continued as she glanced at Chewie.

"And?" Han pressed. "What did the message say?"

[We're making an extra stop,] Chewie offered.

"A supply run, on the way back to base," Leia finished Chewie's sentence and Han inwardly noted how adept she was getting at understanding the Wookiee. "We just jumped into hyper," Leia answered in Han's silence.

"Where're we goin'?" Han asked as he slid in the navigation chair behind Chewie.

[A ration run,] Chewie grunted.

"Rations?" Han repeated.

"Yes, well better than rations. Fresh meat, vegetables, fruit, it sounds like quite a haul," Leia offered as she turned to look at Han.

"Where is this _haul_?"

"Naboo."

"Naboo?," Han responded with a tinge of annoyance, he didn't like the idea of his ship being commandeered at the Alliance's every whim. He then turned to Chewie and asked, "How long 'til we get there?"

"Not long. We weren't that far from it, which is why they contacted us, I guess," the Princess answered before Chewie could.

Han exhaled heavily and ran his hand over his face, he guessed it was no point arguing about it now; it seemed they were going to Naboo.

Han watched Chewie remove his crash webbing and stand. [Let's eat,] he grunted, as he walked passed Han and the trio exited the cabin.

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ landed in a field on the outskirts of a small farming community on the planet of Naboo. Naboo had a very temperate climate with lush landscapes and thus a very large and diverse food production. Although Naboo's government and people secretly sided with the Alliance, the entire planet was occupied by the Empire and its ability to send munitions or soldiers was extremely limited.

Naboo's trade lanes, however, and routes for food exporting were monitored by Naboo's own government and military instead of the Empire and apparently a deal had been struck between the Alliance and a Naboo contact to procure large quantities of produce, meats, and other food stuff. It was decided that Han and Chewie would go into town alone, leaving the princess onboard the _Falcon_ to wait for them to return. Naboo was a socially advanced and highly civilized planet and it was agreed that most all of its citizens – even the farmers – would recognize the Princess of Alderaan.

Leaving Leia onboard the _Falcon_ with a promise to stay put, Han and Chewie headed off towards the small town. When they returned several hours later with over a dozen repulsor sleds full of food supplies, Han deactivated the _Falcon's_ security system and palmed himself in. Barely waiting for the gangway to reach the ground, he jumped up and began calling for Leia.

"Leia! You gotta come see this! Are we gonna eat good tonight!" He bounded into the lounge and was disappointed when she was not there. "Leia!" he called her again as he walked around the ship. His heart began to beat faster as worry replaced excitement. Finding an empty cockpit, the last place she could have been, he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced out the transparisteel viewport.

Looking out over the lake at the edge of the field they had landed on, Han noticed a floating platform in the middle of the water. As he walked closer to the viewport he squinted his eyes and could barely make out a small figure lying on the platform, apparently sunbathing. From this distance he couldn't tell if it was Leia, but something told him it was. _I knew someday I would regret giving her the codes to my ship_. As Han stared at the small figure, his heart began to race; from this distance he couldn't be totally sure whether or not she had any clothes on. _Or maybe not._

Han hastily exited the cockpit and found Chewie unloading their haul.

[Where's the princess?] Chewie questioned.

"I think she's down at the lake."

[She listens like you do.]

"Can it. I'll go and get her as soon as we're done loading."

[I can get this, go and get the princess before someone sees her.]

"Alright, buddy. I'll be right back."

[Remember this when it's time to unload!] Chewie howled as Han headed for the lake.

Walking briskly towards the lake's edge, Han tried to calm himself down. _There is no way she is lying out there naked, Solo. You are just not that lucky_. As he reached the sandy beach at the edge of the lake he found her clothes in a neat little pile on top of her boots. He looked over towards the platform and got a better view of her.

She was lying with her knees bent over the edge of the platform so that her feet were resting in the water. Han could see now that she had on her underwear. _Not that lucky, but lucky nonetheless_. He thought to himself as he began to strip down to his boxer briefs.

Wading into the lake, the water was slightly cooler than his body temperature but the hot Naboo sun pressed down on his exposed back and shoulders like a warm blanket. Han found the contrast exhilarating. It wasn't often that spacers got to go swimming and the frigid air that always accompanied space travel made this find all the more luxurious. _I can't blame her for not being able to resist this temptation. Hopefully she won't be able to blame me either_.

Slowing his movements as he neared her he could see that her eyes were closed. Inching closer to the platform Han reached out with one of his hands and tickled the bottom of her foot.

"Oooh!" She sat up quickly and pulled her knees up to her chest and her feet up out of the water. Han could have sworn that her face lit up at the sight of him. "Han!"

"Whatcha doin', Princess?" Han swam to the side of her and held himself up with one hand hanging on the platform.

"I was just…_defrosting_." She smiled down at him and he felt a strange sensation in his chest. Han had never seen this much of her bare skin and his internal circuits were firing up on all cylinders. Her legs, her arms, her bare mid-drift, it was almost too much for his brain to process.

"I can see that. In more ways than one." Once the words left his mouth he immediately regretted them. Preparing for the onslaught, he stilled his movement in the water and raised his eyes to meet hers.

She looked down at him and smiled, as if she had sized up his comment and had no argument against it. Taking advantage of this newfound side of the fiery princess, Han asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." She replied as she lay back down and shut her eyes.

Han dunked his entire body under the water, wetting his hair and gaining momentum to heave himself up onto the platform next to the princess. Twisting his hips, he landed beside her in a seated position. He combed his fingers through his wet hair and looked over to her in the most nonchalant way he could muster. Finding her eyes still closed, however, he seized the opportunity to rake his eyes over her entire body.

For so many long months now he had been trying to convince himself that he could not entertain these feelings he had for her. She was too much trouble. She was stubborn, smart-mouthed and...beautiful. She was a Princess. And looking at her now, with her breasts heaving underneath the thin, wet, white standard-issued camisole that she had pulled up to expose her flat belly to the Naboo sun, he could barely breathe at the sight of it all. Moving from her belly to her small white standard-issued boxer briefs, he thought to himself: _There's nothing standard-issued about this woman_. Her thighs still had pebbles of water from the lake slowly evaporating on her milky white skin…

"Enjoying the view, Captain?" She had opened her eyes and brought her hand up to shield them from the sun. There was a slight smile on her face and Han thought that he might be hallucinating. _She looks like a godsdamn goddess_.

Slowly turning his eyes towards the lake, he agreed, "Yes, the lake is beautiful."

She laughed. Han thought he had never heard anything as sincere or infectious as that laugh. He quickly filed that one away in his Leia encyclopedia. She propped herself up on her elbows as she said, "Ri-i-i-ght, the lake."

"What?" he turned to her and feigned his most innocent expression in his repertoire. _Why do I feel like I'm in way over my head here?_

"I would think that a man of your reputation would-" she stopped as if she had lost her nerve. Han could have sworn that he actually saw her confidence evaporate before his eyes like the tiny droplets of water on her thighs. "Nevermind."

He leaned down on one elbow so that their faces were closer together. She had laid back down and shut her eyes again. "What? What do you know about my reputation?" he asked with a smile but inwardly he was praying that she didn't know half of what he was worried about her knowing.

She brought her hand up to shield her eyes again as she opened them to look at him. Staring at him awhile as if trying to decide what, if anything, she should say. She finally said, "I thought you liked your women tall, tanned and lanky, Captain."

His insides melted. His shoulder and arm that was supporting him, suddenly felt wobbly and weak. What was this woman doing to him? Why was he so happy that she sounded jealous…and interested? Wasn't she right? Han Solo did like his women tall, tanned and lanky. Han looked at her as he tried to formulate a response under her bewitching stare, "Well…sometimes…a man has to consider the whole package." _What does that mean?_

"Meaning?" She propped herself up on one elbow and continued to hold one hand over her eyes as she looked at him, her curiosity piqued. Han watched her breast jiggle and move in front of him, he didn't know how his eyes just didn't pop out of their sockets and roll around on the platform between them.

As his eyes left hers he looked down to the decking below them and began to trail his finger in loop de loops. Pretending that his finger's movement were the most interesting things since, well, since Princess Leia decided to go swimming in a white camisole, he stammered, "Well, sure, I'm usually attracted to tall women, but that initial attraction doesn't always lead to anything..." he stopped and looked at her. _Gods, she really wants me to finish this?_

This time he held her gaze as he added, "If she doesn't have the brains, personality and wit to go along with the looks and the legs, then, well it doesn't really much matter."

"So, would you say that _I _have the brains, personality and wit, Captain?" She scrunched her face up as she took her hand away from her eyes. Squinting in the sunlight, her hair hanging behind her with dry, wispy strands framing her face, she was the most gorgeous thing the spacer had ever seen.

Han swallowed before he could get the word out. "No," he said, and then paused with a smile and waited for her reaction. She brought her hand back up above her eyes and looked at him intently as he added, "I would say…that you're the whole package."

She took the hand that had been shielding her eyes and placed it on his shoulder. Pushing at him gently she said, "You're teasing me!"

His body's reaction to her touch was palpable. He had to get out of this situation now. Somehow, someway she had ambushed him with her innocent questions and disarming looks. _Does she know what she's doing to me?_ Regardless he had to take evasive action and quickly. He whipped his legs up onto the platform and cradling her in his arms, he stood up as he said, "I'm no tease, sweetheart."

She was kicking her feet and laughing as she screamed, "Put me down! Han! Put me down!"

"The Princess wants down, huh? Then down we go!" He took two quick steps to the edge of the platform and jumped into the water while holding Leia tightly in his arms.

As their bodies hit the water, he let the arm drop that had been holding onto her thighs but kept his other arm loosely surrounding her neck. As their descent into the clear lake water slowed and the air bubbles from their entry rose around them, he opened his eyes to find her looking at him. He moved his arm from around her neck and let it linger on her shoulder. For the second time that day, he thought he was hallucinating as Leia took both of her hands and placed them on his shoulders. Before he could absorb what was happening to him, she grinned wildly and pushed down with her hands using his body to catapult herself up to the surface. He laughed at her boldness as he watched her swimming form rise up above him, admiring her standard-issue underwear once again.

Han slowly kicked his legs and brought himself up to the surface a short distance from her. After wiping his face, he combed his hair back with his fingers and opened his eyes to find her sheepishly smiling at him. He gave her his best lop-sided grin as he said, "I'm gonna have to get you for that."

Her mouth dropped and her eyes widened in mock fear, "No. I think we're quite even now, Captain."

Before he could make his move to swim towards her, both of their heads turned at the sound of a howling Wookiee standing at the sand beach, grunting and shaking his fists.

They looked back at each other and laughed as Han said, "Saved by the Wookiee, Princess. I guess it's time to go."

They slowly swam together towards the beach. When they reached the water's edge they noticed that Chewbacca had disappeared. Han watched the princess as she tilted forward, bringing her long, wet locks over her shoulder and wrenching the water out by twisting sections of her hair. When Leia turned her attention to him and found him staring at her, he quickly snapped out of his daze and began to get dressed.

Once he had his pants on, Han straightened up and pulled his shirt over his head. Daring to take another peek at the princess's progress on getting dressed, he looked over at her staring at him. She had made absolutely no progress in dressing herself, opting it seemed to watch him dress instead.

"Enjoying the view?" He grinned at her as he buttoned his white shirt.

"Yes," she purred.

_Wait a minute_. Han was stunned at her reaction. _Is she flirting with me?_ Not knowing just how to respond, he decided to press forward gently, like walking barefoot through a field of razor grass. "There's more where that came from," he answered her with a wink and a smirk.

"Maybe I'm not interested in _more_."

_What in the nine hells? _Han grinned at her as he started to walk towards her. He stood in front of her and placed his warm hands onto her shoulders. "Just tell me what you're interested in and I'll be glad to oblige, sweetheart."

Han looked down at her and couldn't recall a time when her eyes seemed so open and unguarded. She was staring at him unabashedly, no anger, no fear – it was frightening! He waited for her to answer him but she seemed unable to speak.

He smiled down at her and asked, "What have you done with Leia?"

The change was immediate and unfortunate… "I haven't…I'm still..." Han could feel her body freeze in his grasp and as he watched her eyes glaze over, he realized he was losing her. Looking down at herself she crossed her arms over her chest. While she had been watching him dress, she still remained in her tight, wet, white undies and Han watched her face flush at the realization.

He rubbed his thumbs on her arms and spoke softly to her, "Relax. I just meant that I'm not used to seeing you like this. I like it."

"Seeing me like what, Captain?" She shrugged his hands off of her shoulders and scooped her clothes up off of the beach. "Half-naked in wet skivvies?" She looked up at him, admonishing him. Watching the coolness and detachment taking over, Han felt a sad pang of disappointment swell inside of him.

Han countered her accusation by saying softly, "No. I just meant that it's nice to see you…relaxed. Laughing. Having fun. That's all."

Slipping her shirt over her head she spoke to him, "Well, it's hard to relax and have fun while you're fighting a war, Captain." Their eyes met as her head made its way out of the neck of her shirt and she snaked her arms through the sleeves. She looked away from him as she shimmied her khaki pants onto her damp legs.

"There's no war here. There is no war right now." Han couldn't mask the aggravation creeping up inside of him.

She straightened herself up and replied, "The war is always here, even when you can't see it." She turned away from him, picked up her shoes and headed to the _Falcon_.

Staring at the empty space that was once occupied by the princess, Han wondered just what in the hells was going on. To say that he hoped he was reading her signals correctly would be an understatement. He had certainly taken notice of her since the day they met on the Death Star. And while he had playfully flirted and teased with her, she had never responded this way. He had never allowed himself to think that his relationship with the princess would ever amount to anything more than friendship. _Well, that's not entirely true_. He had begun to hope.

This wasn't the first time in recent months that Han had noticed some subtle changes in the princess. The friendly sparring that had defined their relationship to date had begun to take a most interesting turn. Leia didn't fight back _as much_ anymore.

Han found that he was hard-pressed to garner the blushing, smart-mouthed reactions from her that had been the staple of their friendship. It was as if she was laying down her weapon in surrender. Lowering her shields, like a soldier raising a white flag. As if she didn't want to fight anymore. And that scared him. If they didn't fight with each other, then what would they do?

He shook his head and dragged his hand over his face, trying to organize his thoughts on the Rebel princess. He thought of how she could disarm him with those eyes made of pools of melted chocolate. Of how when she was spouting harsh insults at him he couldn't help but want to kiss those beautiful, full, luscious lips of hers. How he wanted to silence her smart mouth by shoving his tongue inside of it. How the nine hells of Corellia couldn't hold him long enough to repent for the many sinful things that he had dreamed of doing to her. _This isn't helping, Solo._

He took a deep, calming breath and continued as he reluctantly admitted that although all that was true, sometime, somewhere along the way, his playful banter and unbridled lust had derailed off of its intended course and headed straight into some unknown territory that scared the bantha crap out of him. Something about her had started to affect him in a way that he had never felt before. He had been with many women, he had even been in love a time or two, but there was not one single female in his memory that affected him like one Princess Leia of Alderaan.

More than sex, more than a conquest, he wanted her - wanted to know her. How her mind worked, what she thought of, dreamed of, laughed about. He wanted to know her favorite dessert, color, season, her favorite everything and wrap them all up and give them to her day after day. Longing to talk to her he would devour each syllable she uttered like a savory morsel from his favorite meal. He memorized her face when she laughed, when she cried and when she prepared to fling an insult at him. Every look, every expression, he cataloged and filed them away in his very own encyclopedia of this woman. _What in the nine hells is wrong with you?_

Han shook his head and tried to compose himself as he began to walk towards the _Falcon_. _It's one thing to admit all this to yourself_, he thought with a deep sigh, _it's quite another to do anything about it_.


	9. Chapter Nine  Revelations

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Nine: Revelations

Princess Leia sat on her bunk in her icy quarters on Hoth. Her arms hugging her legs and her chin resting on her knees. The hour was late but she fought the dull pull of sleep with little effort. She watched her breath and the tiny puffs of fog it created as she struggled with the thoughts spinning through her head.

Her mind wandered to that pilot from over a year ago. The way that he had looked at her while he told her she was an abomination. Little did he know how right he was. She fell back on her bunk, staring up at the ceiling - and her thoughts went to Han. She thought of how he had held her that night and how she had cried, releasing all the hurt she normally held inside of her. She had felt like flesh and blood in his arms. When he looked at her, she saw a woman reflected in his eyes, not a machine…or an abomination.

Leia wrapped her arms around herself and rolled onto her side. Replaying the memory of Han holding her was something she did often. It was living and breathing inside of her, like an animal in a cage. She nourished it and fed it, hoping it would never leave her. It was becoming less and less comforting, though. She yearned for more. She craved his touch. She was hungry with desire, but she stifled it.

It had been several weeks since her and Han's _altercation_ on Naboo. Leia still wasn't sure exactly what she thought she was doing toying with the handsome spacer that day. One minute she was reveling in the memories of Alderaan that Naboo had awoken in her and the next minute she was flirting with Han Solo like a worldly temptress. Well, maybe not a worldly temptress…but flirting all the same.

Leia let out a heavy breath and clenched her fists. She closed her eyes and let the memory replay in her mind; of the lake, and the platform and the mountains in the distance. Of the water, the beach and of how she had fled to his quarters on the _Falcon_. Sitting up in her bunk, she let her legs hang over the side and her sock-covered toes brush against the cool floor.

She remembered standing in the middle of his quarters and the door sliding open as he came barreling in. She could hear their voices in harsh whispers, replaying in her mind. What he had said to her and what she had said to him...

'_What the hell happened out there, Leia?'_

'_What?'_

'_Why can't we have one nice, civil conversation together without you retreating back to that Ice Princess that I thought you left on Hoth?'_

'_How dare you?'_

'_How dare you? What were you doing out there just now, huh? How did you want me to react? That's just it, isn't it? You don't know what you want.'_

'_I know what I want, Captain, and it isn't you.'_

Leia stood up, rubbed her hands against her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. She saw his face and his eyes, and the effect her words had had on them. She opened up her eyes and shook her head. They had not talked about it since. But it sat between them, like an uninvited guest at a dinner party, neither one of them willing to acknowledge its presence.

She slipped her shoes on and grabbed her parka. _I wonder if he's still awake._

Before she had a chance to second guess herself, she was half way to the Rebel hangar. She worried for a moment that someone might see her lurking late at night towards the smuggler's ship, but she quickly dismissed it. Let them talk, what did it matter anymore? At least those rumors made her seem real and alive and fallible. She wondered what sane being actually _yearned_ to be fallible. She wondered if she was, in fact, sane.

She contemplated what she should do if the ship's gangway was raised. Would she turn around in defeat? She remembered when Han shared the _Falcon's_ security code with her in case they were separated during their mission. Would she dare use it tonight?

As she rounded a corner, the _Millennium Falcon_ came into view, her gangway lowered invitingly. Increasing her pace, the image of Han taking her hand and placing it on the scan grid as she stood outside of his cabin flashed through her mind. The green light shining on their faces as it memorized her palm print, granting her entrance whenever she desired.

On her very first mission with him, she found his cabin had been meticulously cleaned. The small desk free of its usual mess, the hinges on the locker door had been replaced, now shutting properly. A shelf in his 'fresher had been cleared. '_For your _things_,' _he had explained.

She had found her most peaceful slumber came on those first few nights aboard the _Falcon_. On the nights when the smell of its previous owner would still be fresh and strong on the sheets and pillows. She could still remember trying to mask her disappointment on their last mission when Han told her that he had run his sheets through the autovalet in anticipation of her arrival. She had wanted to tell him: _Well, could you go roll around in them for a little bit before I go to bed?_

A smile crept across her face and she shook her head._  
_

Slowly ascending the Falcon's gangway, she called out, "Han? Chewie?"

Looking down at herself she was surprised at how disheveled she was. Her hair was pulled back just barely and it hung almost entirely loose down her back, like a dark cape swinging behind her. Her boots were untied as she clomped up the ramp and she wore her clothes haphazardly buttoned and zipped and unzipped and unbuttoned here and there. She stopped and began to straighten herself up. _Have you lost your mind?_

She looked up when she heard Han's voice say, "Are you alright?" She found Han and Chewie staring at her as if she had lost her mind.

"What?" she snapped, not meaning to. She took a deep breath and said, "I'm fine, it's just…," her voice trailing off as she tucked her shirt in.

[I'll go make some tea.] Chewie howled as he turned around and headed for the galley.

She shook her head and sighed, "He doesn't have to do that."

Han looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed. He moved to the side as he motioned for her to enter the ship. "It's alright. C'mon, let's go in the lounge."

Leia slid onto the banquette as she looked up at him; he had on pajama pants and he was bare-chested. "I'm gonna go throw some clothes on," he said as he walked past her and towards the corridor that led to the crew's quarters.

Leia stood up. "No, don't bother. I should leave. I shouldn't have come."

He spun around and caught her at the shoulders as she turned to leave. "It's not a bother. You're already here. And Chewie's making tea that now you have to drink or his feelings'll be hurt. Now sit down and I'll be right back."

She didn't look at him the whole time he was talking; she stared straight ahead into his bare chest. He lowered her back down on the bench and left her sitting there as he disappeared down the corridor.

_What am I doing here?_ She couldn't even remember what had possessed her to come. She looked down at her hands. This was dangerous territory, she warned herself. Dangerous because she had a job to do, dangerous because she had no idea exactly what this man thought of her, but most of all dangerous because owning up and addressing these feelings meant that she was breathing life into something that didn't have any business being born in the first place.

When Han returned she was still sitting there, looking off into space. He slid next to her on the bench and said, "What's up?"

He had slipped a long-sleeved shirt on and she recognized the smell of his bunk, a combination of his soap and deodorant, mixed in with the smell of just…_him _– of metals and grease, of a breeze escaping a thick forest and of kaffe and Corellian spices.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained, eyes straight ahead.

"Oh."

"Did I wake you?"

"No, just lying in my bunk reading a book."

This vision humored her. She wondered just what kinds of books Han Solo read. Then it immediately dampened her spirits as she thought, _you don't know him at all_.

Chewie entered the lounge and placed two cups of steaming tea on the holochess table as she looked up at him and said, "Thanks, Chewie. You didn't have to do that."

The Wookiee howled, [No problem,] as he turned and headed towards the crew's quarters.

"Aren't you going to join us?" Leia called to him.

[Not tonight,] he grunted and disappeared down the corridor.

She gave Han a questioning look as she watched him take a mug and cradle it in his hands. "I think you did wake Chewie up," Han admitted as he took a small sip of the hot liquid.

"Oh." She took the other mug and brought it up to her mouth, stopping before she took a sip. She watched the steam rise up in front of her and let the aroma tickle her senses. Pursing her lips together, she blew the steam away from her and watched it dissipate into the chilly air. Turning her head to face him she found Han watching her. _I would sell my soul to be able to read his thoughts_.

She watched him watching her. His eyes fell down to her lips and she quickly turned away. She wondered why he didn't just kiss her, take her in his arms and press her to him until she couldn't remember her name, or this war, or...anything. Make the decision for her since she seemed incapable of doing it for herself.

"Have you ever served in the military?" She didn't even know where her words had come from, seemingly jumping out of her mouth of their own accord.

"What?" He coughed a little bit and cleared his throat.

"You heard me."

"Where's this coming from?"

"It's coming from the fact that I want to know."

"I know _you_ and there's gotta be a reason you're asking."

She looked away from him and said, "Fine." He didn't reply so she took a quick sip of her tea and mumbled, "Forget I asked."

They sat in silence for awhile and drank. Her tea had reached the perfect temperature and she savored the rich, spicy blend.

She took another sip of her tea and then said, "Did you punch that pilot in the eye and then have him transferred?"

"Kreth! What made you think of _that_?"

Their eyes met and they just stared at each other for a little while.

Han shifted his body to face her. "Well, can I ask why, after all this time, does that matter now?"

"I want to know, that's all."

"I think you already know and just want to hear me say it."

"Call it what you want. Will you _please_ just answer me?"

"I'm not even _enlisted_, how could I have anyone transferred?"

_Please, you don't have to remind me of that! _"You're not answering my question."

There was silence again. Her mug was almost empty and Leia wondered again just what in the name of Sith she was doing there.

Han shifted in his seat and said, "Fine, yes, I mighta _encouraged_ him to put in for a transfer."

"With your fists?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Hmm."

Even though Leia was positive that it had happened that way, something about it being confirmed by the man himself lit a fire inside of her chest.

"And then I spoke to Rieekan about it," Han offered without a prompt.

"Just to be sure."

"Right."

He was looking at her again and this time Leia could feel the blush creep up her face as she turned away from him. Looking down at her nearly empty mug she contemplated her situation. She liked this man. He intrigued her. Although he worked very hard at convincing everyone differently, she believed he was a good man at heart.

A pseudo criminal, she liked to think that was due more to circumstance than by any deliberate choice. And now that she was a pseudo criminal herself, how could she hold that against him? Of course, there was his refusal to enlist in this Rebellion, but she had almost come to terms with that and the longer he continued to stay even without a commission, the less that bothered her.

All else was inconsequential. She didn't care about his family, or lack thereof. Men bred from the very best families could not be taught to be the type of man she believed Han Solo to be. And she had seen many men of high-breeding _choose_ to be criminals in numerous despicable ways that would rate much worse than running spice, in her opinion.

And for all his bluff and bravado and his preoccupation with proving that he was detached from her cause - a loner that needed no one. An army of one. Reckless and carefree. Leia found _that_ the most telling of all. For one thing, his actions totally contradicted his words. Secondly, her father had taught her that when someone tried very hard to convince you that they were one thing, that indeed, they were usually quite the opposite.

"Leia," Han whispered into her thoughts.

"Yes, Captain." She turned her head towards him and was surprised by his serious expression.

"What did he say to you?"

She started for a second; almost wanting to pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about. But then she let the words fall out of her mouth as if they lived permanently perched on the tip of her tongue, "That I shouldn't be alive." To hear them spoken out loud again stung and she stared at the mug in her hands as she added, "That my being alive was an abomination."

"What a hutt's ass that guy was," Han scoffed, belittling the comments that had haunted her for over a year.

She looked at him in astonishment, her mouth hanging open slightly.

"What? You _believed_ him?"

Looking down at her hands she thought, what's not to believe? If only Han knew. If only anybody knew what had really happened that day. How could she ever look anyone in the face if they knew that? Her world, her burden...her fault.

"Princess," he said as he put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Responding to his silence, she drug her eyes up to meet his staring at her and then he continued, "Your being alive is a lot of things: fate, destiny, maybe even luck. But, _you_ are by no means an abomination." When he finished his hand had found its way to the side of her face and he cupped her cheek as his thumb gently stroked her skin.

He pursed his lips and exhaled heavily through his nose. Leia could feel the anger radiating from him. She imagined that he now regretted only using his _fists_ as encouragement for that pilot to leave.

She shook her head at him and asked in a low voice, "Why are you so nice to me?"

"I'm not _that_ nice to you," he answered as he retracted his hand and gave her a wink and a crooked smile.

_Yes, you are_.

Gods, what did she feel for this man? Leia wasn't one to deny her feelings. Repress? Yes. Deny? No. Her ability to process her emotions head-on was probably the only thing that had kept her out of the insane asylum all this time. She might not talk about them or show them to anyone else, but she didn't make a habit out of denying them to herself. And by this point in time – she was well on her way to accepting the fact that she felt something fairly substantial for this crazy Corellian sitting next to her.

Maybe she had been in denial, or maybe she had been fighting it, but here it was now. Clear as day. Big as life. No matter how she tried to explain it away or talk herself out of it, it was of no use. It seemed as stubborn, and confusing and exasperating as the man himself.

Leia felt the heat radiating out of the neck of her parka like the steam from her mug of tea earlier. She shifted slightly in her seat.

"I was in the Imperial Navy," Han's answer to her earlier question came out of nowhere.

She stared at him and smiled. Then she replied simply, "I know."

Han shook his head at her. "Then why?"

"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."

Their eyes lingered on each other for a long, silent moment before she finally looked away. Leia turned her mug about in her hand, watching the last of the remaining liquid streak across the bottom of the cup as she moved it about.

Finally, placing the mug on the table in front of her, she turned to Han and said, "I guess I better go. Thanks for the tea...and the company."

"Hey, anytime," Han answered softly as he placed his mug on the table and they both stood up.

She walked towards the gangway of the _Falcon_ and stopped when she reached it. She spun around and faced him and they both stood there for a while in silence.

Like the words that were spilling out of her mouth earlier, it all happened quickly. Before she knew what she was doing she had taken three quick steps towards him and flung her arms around his waist and buried her head into his chest. She could sense his confusion and surprise at her actions as he stood there for a second without moving. Finally, she felt him relax and put his arms around her and she sunk into him as if responding to some cosmic gravitational pull.

She felt his hand rubbing her back and she inhaled that familiar scent, breathing life into the memory that had been fading inside of her. Then it was over. She dropped her arms and he responded immediately, releasing her from his hold.

She took a couple of steps back and turned away from him as she mumbled, "Goodnight," unable to bring herself to look at him.

"G'night." She heard him respond as she bounded down the ship's gangway.

As she walked away from his ship, she wondered what he thought of her actions. But then she told herself that she didn't care. If his actions continued to confuse her, why shouldn't her actions confuse him?

His admission regarding that pilot, '_I mighta _encouraged_ him'_, swirled through her mind and settled warmly into her chest. This same man that had teased and taunted her from the moment they had met, had also cared and watched out for her all these years. He never pitied her or treated her like she was inhuman; he had been a friend in a time when she was hard-pressed to find many people that fit that description.

But what did all that mean, exactly? What was she supposed to make of his actions? What went through his mind when he punched that pilot in the eye, or cleaned up his cabin for her arrival, or teased and taunted her? What went through his mind when his eyes fell to her lips, yet he made no move to kiss her? Maybe he realized just how broken and damaged she was. Why was he apparently fighting this as much as she was? Was it to protect her from him? Or him from her?

Leia clenched her fists and shook her head, either way, she could not allow herself to entertain much less pursue these feelings. Wherever she had buried them, for however long they had lain dormant, she had to shove them back into the recesses of her mind. This man was not her destiny, there were so many more important things that she needed to remain focused on. This was not what should be keeping her up at night. She would not allow this...this...whatever it was, to derail her intended course. She could not falter now.

For all the things in all of the universe that Leia felt she deserved, love was not one of them.

Finally reaching her quarters, she climbed into her bunk and tried to sleep, but it continued to elude her. The memory that she had sought out to renew tonight no longer held its charm. It wasn't enough anymore. Turning over and curling her body up into a ball, Leia wondered just what would be enough.


	10. Chapter Ten  The Crossfire

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Ten: The Crossfire

Han Solo sat at a long table in the Alliance mess hall on Hoth. His eyes scanned the room. The walls were made of scraped ice. Han could now add scraping ice to his list of things he never wanted to do again. This base was much more trouble than it was worth. Everyone's breath was visible all around him. Every second he and Chewie had spent here consisted of nothing but constant, back-breaking work. If they weren't digging out tunnels, or running conduits and cables, then they were retrofitting anything with a motor to adjust it to this damn, frigid, unbearable, inhumane cold. And they hadn't even started working outside yet.

Rumor was that they had rounded up some Tauntauns that were tame enough to ride. Han hoped he was way off-planet before _that _call for volunteers hit the hangar floor. He had done more than he bargained for already on this base and running around on a wild animal in a raging blizzard was not his idea of a good time. Besides, all the attention this base was demanding of him left little time for him and Chewie to work on the _Falcon_.

Princess Leia's voice buzzed in his ear as she sat next to him. The contrast of her physical nearness to him, compared to how far apart he felt from her, was disconcerting. If this base was frustrating, then there wasn't an appropriate word Han could think of to describe the woman sitting next to him. In the last couple of weeks, the emotional distance between them had begun to grow as if someone was feeding it. If he had unwittingly done something to set her off, he had yet to figure out what it was.

It was as if the galaxy had unwound around him and time had spun backwards, transporting her back to who she was over two and a half years ago. The coolness and distance that had dissipated over time had been reborn - tenfold. Just when he had begun to believe that there was something else to her, something other than supplies and missions and toppling Empire's, she seemed to be doing everything in her power to prove otherwise.

She had cried in his arms once, flirted with him on a beach and came to him late one night on his ship. She had, either knowingly or unknowingly, bewitched him. But now she acted as if none of it had ever happened. Sitting next to him, spouting off the latest Alliance propaganda and getting all riled up about their recent victories or defeats, while her each and every word crawled under his skin. His throat tightened and his mouth went dry as he tried to swallow.

He had never hated the Empire more.

If only this damn Rebellion did not sit between them like this. He could smell her hair or soap or whatever it was that she smelled like and he squirmed in his seat. If this was her way of getting him to join her precious cause then he had a sinking feeling that her brilliant scheme might actually work. He was ready to sign up. He wished he could jump into the _Falcon_, find the Empire and destroy the whole lot of them…if that meant he got to hold her again. If that meant he got to kiss her and if that meant she would want to kiss him.

But what would it mean? What would happen if the Rebellion finally came to an end? Could he really believe that she would want anything to do with him after that? Was it the Rebellion sitting between them or something else? Would she go back to being a Senator or a Princess or whatever she wanted to be and he would go back to smuggling spice? Han let out a deep breath as his lunch flipped over in his stomach.

He was quite sure now that he had finally reached the end of his rope. In fact, he knew it, knew it like he knew his own name. Something had to give. Something had to change in his life or he was going to go insane, if he was not already insane. And Han was ready to concede that his sanity was definitely in question at this point.

He heard Chewie bark something at the Princess from across the table and then Luke threw his two credits in too. As Han casually followed their conversation and looked around the crowded mess hall, he didn't see one face that he didn't blame in one way or another for driving him completely nuts. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at her leg next to his, so close. Close enough to touch it, to rest his hand on it, to move his leg and press against it. Yet so far.

His insides itched. This wasn't a new feeling for him. He wished he had heeded the same warning signs over two years ago. Gotten the hell out of there after Yavin and never looked back. He never regretted helping Luke, but it was everything that came after that that he was beginning to regret. Everything that was making his heart crawl up his throat and his stomach twist in knots. Everything that made his lungs feel empty and his head heavy to the point of bursting.

His instincts were telling him to run or at the very least to call his hand. The pot had grown too large. The stakes had climbed too high. He was really in deep with this woman and he had to jump in or get the hell out. A burst of perspiration painted his forehead and he took a deep, calming breath.

Han usually enjoyed an exhilarating high when he gambled and especially when the stakes were high. Savoring the moment of anticipation, when his cards had been played and all that was left was the moment of truth. Had he won or lost? This gamble, on this woman sitting next to him, brought him no such exhilaration. Because unlike the cards, which never changed on you once you played them - he knew dealing with a woman held no such guarantees. Especially this particular woman.

"Captain Solo?" He heard Leia's voice address him. "Were you listening to a word I said?"

"No, I wasn't."

She frowned at him and her brow furrowed. "What's the matter?"

"Just because I'm not hanging on your every word, doesn't make something the matter, Your Worship."

"I don't expect anyone to hang on my every word. What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing." Han sighed and pushed his chair away from the table. "Nothing has gotten into me. I'm just not interested in hearing you preach your Rebel sermon while I'm trying to force down this bantha dung they pass off as food around here."

"I am not preaching. And gods forbid that you actually pretend to care about what's going on with the people that have been paying you and feeding you for the past two years."

Han stood up and pushed his chair in. "Is that what you call what they've been doing? Because I've been trying like hell to figure it out."

Leia pushed her chair away from the table and stood up to face him. "Well, I can't say that I'm surprised that you couldn't figure something out. Maybe if you actually stood for something in your life besides the almighty credit…"

"I stand for something, believe me." Han said as he cut her off.

"Oh, please. Tell me. Just what is it that you stand for?"

"I stand for myself. Not _anyone_ or anything else."

"Oh, get off of it already. You've been here as long as I have. Your commission is a mere formality at this point."

"A _formality_? I'll show you a formality." Han turned his back to her to walk away, but changing his mind he spun back around to face her. He waved his finger and clenched his teeth as he said, "You cling to this hopeless Rebellion because you're afraid of who you would be without it."

Her body language immediately matched his as he watched the fire flash through her eyes. "And you cling to your independence in the same vain. You think you have everyone fooled, but you don't."

Han straightened up and shook his head. "Ah, but that's just it, isn't it? You do have everyone fooled, _Princess._" And then he took a step towards her and leaned in closer to her as he whispered, "Everyone but me."

As he pulled away from her he watched the color creep up her neck and face. He didn't think he had ever seen that shade of red before. She stared at him straight in the eyes and he felt the perverse desire to kiss her, as if that just might solve everything. He looked down at her lips then back up into her eyes. She said nothing. Letting out a deep breath, he spun around and walked away.

Han took a very circuitous route back to his ship. He had to calm down and cool off. He would say that he wanted time to think, but that seemed like the only thing he did lately. He was tired of thinking. Wasn't thinking and analyzing and second-guessing what got him in this predicament in the first place? Han wondered just how delusional he had let himself become. How had he let a woman affect him like this? A woman he had not even kissed, much less slept with!

And Leia telling him that his commission was a mere formality. Han shook his head at her words. His hanging around under the pretense of leaving _was_ almost laughable at this point. And his feelings for Leia may as well have been posted on the assignment board in the main hangar. It seemed the only two people on base that didn't treat the two of them as a couple, was the two of them.

'_I know what I want, Captain, and it isn't you.'_

Her words, from that day on Naboo, slapped him across his face and he had to stop walking to reclaim his bearings. Those words haunted him like a child's nightmare. She could not have been more clear. No matter what he thought he felt or had convinced himself that she felt, he just wasn't a man that liked playing against those kinds of odds. Whether she had said them in anger or fear, he couldn't guess at anymore.

'_...and it isn't you.'_

The point was…she had said them.

So, why couldn't he bring himself to leave? What did he think he was going to accomplish here? As the _Falcon_ came into view, he thanked whatever goddess was left on his side for the fact that he was going off-planet for a couple of weeks tomorrow. Maybe he just wouldn't come back. Or maybe he could figure things out when he had some time away from her.

When he reached the _Falcon_ he trudged up the gangway like a child being sent to his room without dinner. The welcoming comfort of his ship was fleeting. Everywhere he looked he saw her. Every familiar sound echoed her harsh words. Standing in the lounge, he heard banging in the galley and watched as Chewie emerged a couple of seconds later chewing on something and holding a mug in his enormous paw.

The Wookiee stopped when he saw Han and looked at him for a while before shaking his head and saying, [I will never understand humans.]

"Shut up, Chewie." Han shot back as he eased himself onto the banquette.

[You two would be grandparents on Kashyyyk by now.]

"I said, can it!"

[Why don't you just tell her?]

"I'm not listening to this." Han pressed his hands against the holochess table and stood up.

[Yes, and we've seen how well that's been working out for you.]

"What do you want me to do? She's a princess." Han replied without deep sigh.

[Does that matter to _you_ or to her?]

"I don't know. But it matters."

[I don't know what you're waiting for.]

"I'm not waiting for anything," he confessed, his mood deflating as he heard his own words.

The two locked eyes for a minute as Chewie took a sip from his iced mug.

[Well, just to let you know,] Chewbacca finally grunted as he began to walk towards the gangway. [If you're waiting because you don't want to make a fool out of yourself…it's too late for that.]

Han turned and watched his friend leave the ship. Then dragging his hand over his face, he headed to the galley to have a drink. It was too late, too late for a lot of things. And what was he waiting for? And why did everyone seem to have the answers but him?

_[Does that matter to you or to her?]_

Chewie's words echoed in his mind. What did matter to her? This krethin' Rebellion, that's what. Han stopped walking at the entrance to the galley and something inside of him clicked, as if a puzzle piece had fallen into place. Maybe the answer wasn't in leaving. A cool sensation flowed from his forehead straight down to his toes. Maybe the answer was in _staying_.

Han's eyes drifted to the floor and he lost himself in those words for a moment. They had been staying all this time anyway, just like Leia said. So what would be the difference? Snapping out of his foggy thoughts, Han walked into the galley and fixed himself a drink. He took one long sip as he leaned back against the counter. What would be the difference?

There would be no difference_…except maybe to her._


	11. Chapter Eleven  The Commitment

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Ten: The Commitment

Leia Organa sat in General Rieekan's office. It had been nearly three years since they destroyed the Death Star. They had been on the ice planet of Hoth for over two months now. The General had sent for her. She was prompt, as usual. Rieekan, on the other hand, was late.

The General's assistant had shown the princess into his office and Leia sat in one of his over-sized, comfortable guest chairs and waited. Her body sinking into its billowy cushions. She hadn't realized she was so tired. The large chair with its warm colors and soft fabric contrasted sharply with Rieekan's office, carved out of ice as it was. Cold, stark, and uninviting, like this entire base.

Leia's eyes moved around the room, from his real wooden desk to his books and framed photos, his entire office exuded a warmth, much like the man himself, that settled into her chest with a painful twist. The faces of his family smiling back at her from where they sat, scattered on his office shelves - pictures of his past and all that he had lost. She was surprised to find her eyes moistening and quickly tried to blame it on her exhaustion. That wasn't it though, she knew. The pang in her chest was one of envy, hurt, and a nagging feeling of want.

The life that Rieekan lost was the life that Leia knew she would never get a chance to have. When the older man reflected on his past, he could mourn the love and the happiness that he had known in the same way that Leia mourned the love and life that she knew would always remain just out of her grasp. He had had a loving wife and two beautiful daughters. He had had a family to call his own. But was it bad timing or her personal choices that would deny Leia the same? She closed her eyes and admitted that it was, most probably, a painful mixture of both.

Her thoughts took her back to her own father's office and to his favorite comfortable chair. The one Leia would sneak out of her bedroom and find him in late into the night, usually after she was supposed to be asleep and had already been read a proper bedtime story. She would crawl up into his lap and curl up in his arms while he read her books about history and government and war. Taking one of his large hands into her own tiny ones, Leia remembered marveling at how big and strong his hands were. Tracing every finger with her own, following every wrinkle to its end. Laying her head down onto his chest she would drift off to sleep while the smell of his cologne and his favorite cigar mixed in her senses like an old family recipe. His voice rumbling in his chest against her ear, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep. She could still hear him laugh.

Is this the life her father would have wanted for her? Is this what he had sacraficed himself for? What would he tell her now, if he could hold her in his arms again, if he could see the person that she had become? Leia closed her eyes as she shook her head and swallowed.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Leia," Carlist Rieekan had entered his office and was already lowering himself into his chair before Leia ever realized he was there.

"Oh," she said as she opened her eyes and straightened herself up, "no need to apologize, Carlist. I know how busy you are."

"Are you alright?" The General looked at Leia as worry crawled across his face.

She wondered if her eyes were as glassy as they felt. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just very tired today for some reason, that's all."

"You seem to be tired quite a bit lately. Are you having problems sleeping? I know this base is not _agreeing_ with everyone."

"No, I'm fine. It's fine," Leia lied. She had not been sleeping well at all lately. Was it because of Hoth? It could certainly be a factor. Not being able to enjoy sunshine and warm fresh air was something she had underestimated the importance of - as had all of High Command. But that wasn't it.

"Well, I've got to be honest with you, Leia. I'm worried about you. I haven't seen you like this in a long time. Did something happen to trigger this relapse?"

"It's not a relapse, Carlist. And you have enough things to worry about without keeping track of my sleeping habits."

"I will never stop worrying about you, Leia. I should hope you know that."

"Thank you, but it's really not necessary. There's nothing to worry about."

"Does this have anything to do with Captain Solo?"

His mention of Han caught her off guard. She looked down at her hands, feeling as if she had Han's name stamped all over her face. "What makes you say that?"

"I'm hearing more and more reports from people caught in your crossfire. In fact, that little spat between the two of you in the mess hall was quite a show."

She breathed a heavy sigh and said, "Captain Solo is just impossible to deal with. But you're as insane as he is if you think he would have any influence on my well-being."

"Well, that's good to hear, because I've asked him to escort you on your upcoming mission to Ord Mantell."

"There's nothing unusual about that. We've been on missions together before."

"Well, you'll be going alone. Just you and Captain Solo."

Drawing in a deep breath Leia utilized every modicum of restraint, pulling on all those years of diplomatic training to mask her true reaction as she replied, "Very well, might I ask why?"

"Chewbacca will be too conspicuous and the cover intelligence has created for this mission does not require a full band of operatives. Two in and two out, that's what we've committed to." Carlist stood up and walked around his desk to stand in front of Leia. Leaning back on the desk behind him, he continued, "Also, we can't very well fly into Ord Mantell in an X-wing and Captain Solo's ship is the only thing close to a pleasure craft we have available to us at the moment."

Mixing the words pleasure and Captain Solo in the same sentence made her stomach spin as she responded, "I doubt that dilapidated freighter will be any less conspicuous on Ord Mantell than one of our Y-wings."

"Either way, we've asked and he's accepted. I hope this won't be a problem. I know you understand how important this mission is."

This mission had come up unexpectedly. One of the Rebellion's underground operatives had contacted a sleeper cell to arrange a meeting with an Alliance Representative. To contact a sleeper cell was a last resort for any underground operative. The fact that the sleeper cell had been activated hinted that the information was of vital importance or that the operative was in great danger.

Griffin Favalora, a wealthy, influential businessman of Alderaanian descent headed the sleeper cell and had made arrangements for an Alliance representative to accompany him to a trade summit on Ord Mantell where the underground operative would make contact with the Alliance rep that provided the correct safe code.

The Favalora's were a close family friend of the Organa's and Griffin Favalora, apparently having agreed to head a sleeper cell fully expecting that he would never really have to, had been placated with the offer of sending Leia Organa as his Alliance Representative. He had been debriefed and was expecting the Princess under an assigned alias and traveling with a bodyguard who would be posing as her husband.

"Of course, and no, it won't be a problem."

General Rieekan stared at her for a long while as if sizing her up.

"Is that all, General?"

He crossed his arms and released a heavy sigh. "You know it's not a crime to let someone care about you, Leia."

"I know that." She wondered if he was talking about him or Han, or everybody.

"OK. Dismissed."

"Thank you." Leia stood up and left his office.

* * *

A couple of days later, walking back to her quarters, she found Luke standing in the hallway outside of her door.

"Word is that you and Han will be going to Ord Mantell together. _Alone_." Luke said with a silly smile on his face.

Leia rolled her eyes in exasperation. Wasn't it bad enough that the entire base would be using this mission as speculative fodder regarding Han and her, did her best friend need to join in the revelry?

"Yes, and what of it?" She snapped and palmed her way into her cabin.

"We-el-l-l." Leia turned around to see Luke sidestep into her room behind her as her door slid shut, nearly crushing him. They shared a smirk as he continued, "The way you two have been going at it lately, I'm worried one of you might not survive the trip."

"If you're worried about me, Luke, don't bother." She threw her datapad on her dresser and plopped down on her bunk.

"No, I'm more worried about Han," he said as he sat down at the foot of her bed and propped his leg up to the side so that he was facing her.

Picking up a pillow, she flung it as Luke's stomach. "You know me so well."

"Yeah. Speaking of that." He placed the pillow on his lap. Leia watched his fingers run along the edge of the fabric. He finally looked up and said, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Luke." She stared at him and he gave her a, '_this is me you're talking to' _look and she sighed and added, "I don't know anymore."

"You want to talk about it?"

She turned her head away from him. "No." After another long silence, she shook her head and exhaled heavily, letting her eyes meet his again. "What do you think about Han, Luke?"

He stared at her for a moment and then looked down at the pillow in his lap. As he ran his fingers over the edge of the fabric again she grew impatient and leaned over and yanked the pillow from him. Looking up at her, he said, "Alright. I think he's a good pilot. He's been a great help to the Rebellion..." He shuffled a little on the bed and added, "But, I'm guessing that's not what you meant."

"I think you _know_ what I mean," she said while they looked at each other. Looking away, she said, "And if you don't, then just forget I asked."

"Alright, yes," he blurted out quickly, causing her to turn and meet his eyes, as he said, "I know what you mean and I think he's a nice guy. He is a lot _older_ than you, but you're much more mature than I am." They just looked at each other for awhile, until Luke asked, "Have you and he…"

"No." Leia blurted out as her eyes widened in disbelief. And then she added, "Not even close."

A mixture of relief and concern washed over Luke's face as he said with a smirk, "Well…I guess now I'll be worrying about you in a whole other wa-" Before he could finish his sentence she threw the pillow back in his face and they both burst out in laughter. Right at the same time her door swished open and they turned their heads to see Han standing in the doorway.

Laughing, Leia said, "Oh. Hi, Han."

Han's eyes shot between Luke and her as they sat on her bunk. Standing in the doorway, he finally mumbled, "I rang the bell."

Luke stood up and tossed her pillow back onto her bunk. "I guess I'll be going."

Standing up, Leia replied, "No, Luke, you don't have to go."

"Yes, I do." Luke walked towards her door and mumbled, "I've…got somewhere I need to be."

_Real smooth,_ Leia thought to herself as she watched the Jedi scramble out of her still open door.

"Can I help you, Captain?" She turned her attention onto Han as soon as they found themselves alone in her room.

"Can I come in?"

Sheleaned against her dresser and crossed her arms. "Suit yourself."

"You ready for the mission tomorrow?" Han stepped into her room and allowed the door to slide shut behind him.

She studied him for a moment. "Yes."

"And you're okay with it? I mean with us going together?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" She dropped her hands to her sides and stood up straight.

"Right. Okay. No reason," Han answered as he shuffled on his feet. "Then, you'll be ready to leave in the morning?"

"I'll be ready as soon as you can get that so-called ship of yours off of the ground, Captain," Leia replied and then grabbed her datapad and plopped herself down on her bunk.

"I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Fine," she answered him as she flipped on her datapad and began to scroll through her holomails. Sensing Han still standing there, she looked up to him and asked, "Was there something else?"

Leia watched him shuffle on his feet again as he said, "I've decided to stay. With the Rebellion. I just left Rieekan's office."

_This_ warranted her full attention. She straightened out her posture and set her datapad down beside her as she asked incredulously, "You've _enlisted_?"

"No. But I've committed to stay. Me and Chewie."

"What about the Hutt and the bounty on your head?"

"Let's face it, everybody around here has a bounty on 'em. Hell, you're worth more than me on most planets."

He stood there looking at her and she did nothing more than return his gaze. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh, stood up and said, "So, you're staying." He nodded in confirmation. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Right. See ya in the mornin'."

Leia watched him leave. As soon as her door slid shut she flung herself back on her bed. Landing on her datapad, she dug it out from under her and hugged it to her chest. _He's staying_. Just what this bombshell meant, she wasn't exactly sure. What did it mean to him? What should it mean to her? It shouldn't mean anything, it shouldn't change anything. Right?

Then why was her heart racing? And why did it feel like a huge tectonic shift had occurred in their relationship? She sat up in her bed and rubbed her temples. _What relationship?_ He had committed to stay, that was it. No matter what feelings she thought she had for him, he had yet to verbally express any feelings for her. _Becoming a permanent Alliance supply contact does not constitute a relationship, Organa_.

Biting her lip she thought about their mission to Ord Mantell. It would be just the two of them for four or five days. Suddenly, as Luke had hinted at earlier, she was worried about this mission in a whole other way.


	12. Chapter Twelve  So Close

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Twelve: So Close

The two day journey to Ord Mantell had been wonderful in Han's opinion. And Han didn't classify many things as _wonderful_, especially when they didn't involve sex, winning lots of money or…sex. But the trip with Leia had been fight-free and relaxed. Sure, she talked about the mission the entire time, making him memorize their cover names and cover story over and over again, but other than that it had been time alone with her and he'd taken every advantage he could with it.

Admitting that he had lost his mind several weeks ago made it easier for the Corellian to partake in these odd enjoyments that he now found were more than enough to fill his happy days. First, he liked to watch her eat and sleep. It made her look…_real_. Maybe that's why she hardly ever did either one in front of an audience back on base. Eating, of course, was fairly easy; they ate together without much fanfare. But the sleeping part came through luck or hard work that Han had to finagle without the princess knowing what he was doing.

So, he kept her up late talking - about the mission, of course. And he shared some whiskey with her until she loosened up a bit. And then he fixed it so she could lean up against the curvature of the banquette and relax as they talked. And then she fell asleep. Han was almost embarrassed at how much joy it brought him when his plan actually worked.

Once she was asleep he just watched her. Sometimes her lips would part and her long, deep breaths would travel in and out of her lungs through small sighs that were music to his ears. Sometimes she would rub her eyes or her nose like a small child and the inside of his chest would burn. One time she furrowed her brow and he wondered if she was having a bad dream.

When she awoke with a start, he tried to avert his eyes quickly enough to avoid getting caught in a stare. Whether she was embarrassed that she had fallen asleep or she had caught him staring, Han didn't know. But she blushed deeply, apologized and went straight to bed.

Now she sat beside him in Chewie's co-pilot's seat and she was doing the thing that Han enjoyed watching her do the most: flying his ship. They had received their landing instructions from Worlport's public hangar and the two of them were bringing the _Falcon_ down to their designated platform. Han thought that if he closed his eyes he wouldn't be able to discern if it was Chewie or the Princess acting as his co-pilot; her skills rivaling that of his longtime friend. As he glanced over at Leia and caught her biting her lip, he thought better of closing his eyes, for what would be the fun in that?

After landing and shutting the _Falcon_ down, Han gave Leia a gallant wave and an, "after you", that invited her to unbuckle her crash webbing and leave the cockpit ahead of him.

As she stood up and brushed passed him with a soft, "Thank you, Captain," Han surveyed her Ord Mantell attire one last time. She wore a white sundress with large brown and pink floral patterns over its entirety. It had two small straps that led down to a v-neck on both the front and the back of the dress, plunging nicely but tastefully, of course.

Fitting snugly through the torso, the dress flared out from her hips and hit her right below the knee. She had asked him earlier if he could tell that she had a holdout blaster strapped to her thigh as she twirled around in front of him in the _Falcon's_ lounge. He enjoyed dutifully studying her upper thighs for any evidence of her blaster. He did a quick survey again as she walked towards the cockpit exit, just to be absolutely sure.

He unbuckled himself and followed her to the lounge where he watched her don a straw hat and tuck her long braids up into it. When she was done she straightened up and looked at him and words started to fall out of his mouth. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she replied with all the grace that she was born with. He watched her look down at herself, straighten out her dress a little and then drag her eyes back up to his as she added, "You look very nice as well, Captain."

Han looked down at himself now, from his brown tourist shoes, casual khaki slacks and his light green shirt and then meeting up with her eyes again, he replied, "Thank you."

Their eyes locked for a moment and Han's thoughts poured into her deep mahogany eyes as he imagined whisking her through the streets of Ord Mantell and disappearing into another life entirely. A life where he got to watch her eat and sleep and fly his ship whenever he wanted and without permission or embarrassment. A life where he could kiss her and hold her and touch her and a life where she wanted all those things with him.

"Captain?" Leia's voice woke him from his trance and as his eyes refocused on hers, she asked, "Are you ready?"

Han wasn't sure if he was ready. Hell, he wasn't sure of much of anything these days. But he nodded 'yes' and the two left the _Falcon_ locked up tight and were on their way.

Han had been to Ord Mantell before, but never to the district that Leia was now leading him to. The further their hover cab took them from the gambling halls, tourists shops and cantinas, the more Han felt out of his element. In contrast, he watched as Leia began to blend in with her surroundings as if she was an exotic plant that had been grown here and was finally being returned to its proper environment.

Her face lit with excitement as she pointed out homes she had stayed at or knew of their owner's stories. Recalling each excellent meal or dance she had enjoyed at the local restaurants and country clubs, Han sat back and watched in awe as a very different side of this Rebel he had known for nearly three years, peeked out from under her Alliance armor.

"I spent an entire summer there before I went to intermediate school," she offered blithely as she pointed to a large, sleek mansion tucked behind a silver guard gate that wrapped around the property like a serpent's tail. "There's a splendid sand beach at the back of the property."

"Is that right?" Han asked as she looked at him. Visions of Leia in her white undies on a beach in Naboo quickly flashed through his mind. Whether her thoughts had taken her to the same place, he wasn't sure, but she gave Han a shy smile and looked away, just the same.

Han watched as the driver of the hover cab stopped in front of a manned guard gate, exited the vehicle and spoke to the uniformed man standing at the entrance. In Han's experience, hover cab  
drivers never got out of the car except maybe to kick him out. As the driver walked back towards the cab, Han watched the entrance gate slowly glide open to let them through.

The hover cab lumbered slowly down the long, private, serpentine drive. Han leaned his head against the glass and strained to see the tops of the tall, skinny trees that lined the street. Their leaves were such a dark, emerald green that they practically looked black and the pointy tips of the trees swayed and bowed, betraying the steady wind rolling off the coast and as if welcoming their arrival.

The hover cab pulled beneath a large, white portico and came to a gentle stop. Once again the driver exited the vehicle, and this time he opened the door on Leia's side and offered her his hand.

As Han exited the cab from the other side, a young woman and an elderly gentleman exited the house and approached them. According to the mission notes this should be Leia's childhood friend, Sofie and her father, Director Griffin Favalora, a wealthy and influential local businessman.

Although the Favaloras knew Leia's given name, for security reasons both she and Han would be referred to by their cover names for the entire trip. The Favaloras had over twenty servants on their grounds and one could never be too careful.

The plan was to have dinner and spend the night at the Favalora mansion and then both he and Leia would accompany the Director to a trade conference tomorrow morning to meet the covert Alliance operative that had activated this sleeper cell. The Favalora's were to provide Han and Leia with simple disguises for tomorrow, having been sent the couple's sizes ahead of time.

"Erika, you look as beautiful as ever. I can't tell you how happy I am to see you looking so well," the elderly gentleman grabbed Leia's hand and spoke.

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here and to see you and Sofie again. May I introduce my husband, Vance? Vance, this is Director Favalora," Leia introduced Han and he couldn't help but stare at her face. She seemed so…happy and relaxed. He couldn't recall ever seeing her this way. Was it part of her cover? A show for the hover cab driver or the servants standing watch at the door? Han wasn't sure.

As they made their acquaintances and took a quick tour of the mansion, Han soaked in their surroundings, partly as reconnaissance for their mission and partly because of the magnificence of the mansion itself. The Director's home rivaled the size of most of the Rebel bases and every detail was decorated and attended to with exquisite taste. Han knew this because the Director pointed each of these details out with great fervor as they meandered through his home.

The house smelled clean, like a hospital. Only a hint of wintermint wafted through the air and it reminded Han of a professor at the Academy who chewed on the sweet leaves while he walked around the classroom and popped his students on the head with a stick. Han had no trouble imagining Griffin Favalora doing the same.

When they reached the third floor, Han and Leia were offered two guest rooms next door to one another. Left alone to get cleaned up and ready for dinner, Han shut the door behind him, stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

This guest bedroom, like the rest of the house, was large and ostentatious. A magnificent floral arrangement at the far end of the room by the window filled the air with a sweet perfume that cancelled out the lingering smell of wintermint.

His eyes, having been drawn that way, landed on the single glass door next to the window that apparently led out to a balcony. He walked past a generous sitting area, which had a tiny desk and an over-sized holoscreen mounted to the wall. Skirting around a massive bed, large enough for three Wookiees to share, Han reached the door and walked outside.

The sounds and the smell of the raucous sea assaulted him even before his eyes could adjust to the glow of the triple sunset directly ahead. The wind was heavy and wet and reminded Han of boat rides and topless beaches. Han inhaled deeply as he felt the salty air cover his skin with a gritty sheen.

He walked towards the balcony and rested his forearms on the banister as he watched the pleasure crafts out in the distance skim along the shiny water, lazily making their way back to the docks. His eyes landed on a couple walking hand-in-hand along the water's edge as they let the crashing waves lap up over their feet. Han stood up straight and blinked. His eyes were gritty and dry. He turned around and went back inside.

Heading straight for the 'fresher, Han undressed and stepped into the shower, closing his eyes as the cool, clean water washed away the remnants of the sticky, ocean air. Visions of Leia underneath him on the sandy beach, in his arms in the salty water and disappearing beneath the cool, white sheets in the massive Wookiee-sized bed in his room, assaulted his weakened mind. He felt his body responding to this parade of images and he slowly opened his eyes with a heavy sigh. Leaning his forehead against the cool shower wall, he tried to pull himself together.

Finished with his shower, he exited the 'fresher and walked towards the closet. Opening the double doors, he studied the two lone outfits hanging in front of him. One was very casual compared to the other with a pair of khaki slacks, a long-sleeved, button-down, collared shirt that was light blue in color and a dark blazer. The other was a three-piece, jet black tuxedo. Han could only assume that the "casual" attire was for the trade meeting tomorrow. Letting out a deep breath, he grabbed the black suit and threw it on the bed.

Once dressed, he walked into the 'fresher and checked himself out in the mirror. Using his fingers, he combed his hair slightly to the left. Then, steadying himself with his hands on the cool marble of the bathroom counter, he leaned in closer to his reflection and let his mind drift away once again.

He saw Leia twirling around in the lounge of the _Falcon_ in her summer dress. He saw her sleeping on the banquette, her lips slightly parted. Then they were on the beach in Naboo and she was staring at him. She leaned into him and stretched up to kiss him.

The ache in his chest snapped him out of his thoughts. He stood up straight, took a final look at his reflection in the mirror, at his sleek, black suit and combed hair and then he palmed off the 'fresher light, dousing the room in darkness. He stood there for a moment before he exited the room.

There was a movement on the balcony that caught his eye, and Han turned towards the door and headed that way. Stepping out onto the balcony, he felt the change in the air immediately. It was cool and crisp, unlike the hot, humid afternoon air that had stuck to him earlier. His eyes fell on the vision in front of him as he wiped the palms of his hands against his pants leg.

She stood facing him. "Hi," she said with a smile.

"Hi," he replied as he walked towards her.

She wore a floor length gown that sparkled as if it were made of diamonds. The fabric hung on her, leaving little to the spacer's imagination. The front of the dress plunged down her chest lower than anything he had ever seen her in, revealing the curves of her breast and the tantalizing valley in between them. The front of her hair was pulled back with an assortment of combs and clips, but she had left the majority of her hair loosely cascading down her back in spiraling curls.

"Nice dress," he said softly as he forced his eyes to drag up and meet hers.

"Nice suit," she replied as he stopped in front of her.

He could smell her perfume; it was different, no doubt something provided by the Favaloras. A gentle breeze flowed through her hair and he could smell her shampoo and the soap on her skin. It was the same soap that he had used just moments ago while he battled with his thoughts of her. The intimate recognition caused a warm puddle to form in his gut and then he felt it spread through his extremities, as if traveling through his bloodstream.

His eyes were drawn to the tiny, sparkling necklace draped on her neck as wisps of her hair danced in the gentle breeze. Mentally fighting the movement the entire way, Han lifted his hand and touched the necklace with his fingers, letting the backs of his fingers brush against the smooth skin of her neck as scooped up the sparkling pendant that hung from it. Han saw her lips part and heard her inhale sharply in reaction to his touch.

"Nice necklace," he whispered.

Her lips remained parted, but she did not respond.

He watched his fingers as they followed the shiny path of diamonds on her necklace until they disappeared at the back of her neck and into the cool, soft blanket of curls that trailed down her back. His eyes drifted towards her mouth. Licking his own lips he forced his eyes to meet hers.

The hot and the cold sensations pulsating through his bloodstream now caused jolts of pain and pleasure in time with his steady, beating heart. His head felt heavy as if filled with spacer's jelly. And then everything faded to black. He couldn't tell if he was breathing, he couldn't even feel the beat of his heart anymore as time stood still for a long, agonizing moment. Applying a gentle pulling pressure on the back of her neck, he began to lower his head to hers as he pulled her towards him. She offered little resistance. Hers eyes darted back and forth between his. Her lips were right there…so close.


	13. Chapter Thirteen  And Yet So Far

A/N: I usually wait until the end of my stories to thank my beta reader, Zyra M, but she was so instrumental in helping me finish this part of the story I had to recognize her here. Thanks again, Zyra!

* * *

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Thirteen: And Yet So Far…

"We should go," Leia offered as she took a step away from him and he watched her eyes drift to the floor.

"Right," he replied, masking his disappointment with a crooked grin as he dropped his hand and held out his arm for her to take.

He watched her study him for a moment and then as she accepted his arm, he turned and led them through her room and down towards the dining room.

Han's mind raced during their entire meal. The conversation, the food and the laughter; all a hazy blur in time. His thoughts were three stories up, still standing on that balcony. She had barely resisted him. They had been so close. She wanted him, he could feel it. He could see it in her eyes, more than ever before. There was no doubt.

After dinner the party moved into the parlor. Han dodged questions from Director Favalora while he watched Leia talk with Sofie. She truly looked extraordinary. The way she held herself in that dress, filling it out in ways that Han had only imagined were possible.

A servant entered the parlor and walked purposefully toward the Director, pulling him to the side. A brusque conversation ensued between the two men and their hushed, choppy words and animated body language caused everyone else in the room to take notice.

As the servant exited the parlor, the Director turned towards his daughter and his guests, and seemed set to continue the evening as if nothing had happened.

Sofie was the first to speak, "Is there a problem, Father?"

"I don't think so, but…_Reynauld_ is quite alarmed."

"Alarmed at what?" Han pressed.

"There's nothing to worry about, I assure you. I tightened my security especially for this occasion."

"What did Reynauld say, Director? It's best if we make any judgment calls on security risks," Leia offered.

"Well," the Director began as he looked from his daughter and then back to Han and Leia, "it seems that we've lost communication with our perimeter guards. I feel certain that it must be a systems malfunction above anything else."

"How many guards?" Han asked.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Han watched as Leia leaned down and removed a hold-out blaster from her ankle and he followed her lead and did the same. When their eyes met, he smiled at her dumbly and she shook him off and walked towards the window as she looked through the curtains to the grounds below. Han watched her movements with fascination, even decked out in her shiny dress, sparkling hair and makeup she could still easily morph into the Alliance Rebel that he knew so well. But which one was she really? The Princess or the Rebel?

Meanwhile, Director Favalora was momentarily horrified at the sight of weapons in his parlor and his daughter was taking pains to calm him down. Whether it was a fear for his life that had upset the director or mortification due to some breach in etiquette concerning drawing your blaster in the parlor, Han couldn't be sure.

"I'm certain that this is not necessary," the Director huffed as Leia approached him.

"Director, excuse me, but I think it might very well be," a voice came from the far entrance of the room and the group turned to see the servant from earlier, Reynault, rushing towards them. "I sent a runner to the forward post and our man there was down," Reynault paused and looked at the two women in the room and continued in a lower voice, "his throat cut."

"We have a safe room downstairs," the Director said hurriedly and began to make his way to the exit as he added, "It is fully stocked and can accommodate all of us."

Han looked to Leia and in that split second everything was said between them. As if their minds were synced, he knew exactly what she was thinking – regarding the mission and their current course of action, that is. For a moment Han wondered why they could not find this same parallel when it came to other things between them.

As he reached the exit door, the Director turned to look at Leia and Leia spoke, "Get everyone downstairs and lock yourselves in."

A look of disbelief washed over the Director's face at Leia's words. He took a step towards her and said, "What about you? What about the contact?"

"Our cover's been blown, we have to leave. The contact will know what to do if we fail to show."

"I can't cower downstairs while you-"

"We don't have time for this." Turning to Reynault she asked, "What is our best escape route?"

Before Reynault could respond, it was Sofie who offered, "Out of my bedroom window." All eyes looked at her. "You can climb along the roof line out past the garage. Walk through a small field and you'll reach the road that skirts around the back of the property."

"That certainly explains why you insisted on the smaller bedroom all those years ago," the Director interjected as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his daughter.

"I think we can talk about that later," Sofie countered as father and daughter stared at each other.

"Please, get downstairs," Leia pleaded with them as Han kept an eye on the hallway.

Director Favalora walked towards Leia and grabbed her by the shoulders as he said, "Leia, you can come with us. I can hide you. I have houses all over the galaxy."

Han turned to look at Leia as Sofie added, "You don't belong…you deserve better than this. You are far too valuable to be wasting away underground-"

"Thank you for your concern, both of you. But I am where I am supposed to be."

"Your death will not avenge your people. It certainly cannot bring back Alderaan…or your father," the Director argued.

Leia only stared at him in response.

Han stepped towards her, grabbed her by the arm and whispered, "C'mon, we need to get goin'."

"Get downstairs," Leia called to the Director and Sofie as Han led her out of the room.

They walked up to Sofie's room in silence, until a deafening crash from downstairs quickened their actions. Looking out of one of the windows, Han noticed the ledge along the roofline that Sofie had mentioned. Sliding the window open, Han stepped out into the ledge and into the driving ran that awaited them. As he clung to the side of the house, he turned and motioned for Leia to follow. A chill ran up his spine as the rain trickled down the back of his neck and through the expensive formalwear that he had on, reminding him why he never belonged in clothing like that in the first place.

Leia kept pace with him as they silently scampered along the edge of the roof, being especially careful with their footing as the sloping roof continued to be pelted with soaking rain. The trek across the roofline was not as easy as Sofie had made it seem and Han pondered on how much motivation a teenage girl must have to sneak out of her house as he busted his knuckles and felt a stinging cut along his knee.

They were nearing the garage although Han couldn't quite make out through the darkness exactly how far they still had to go. Suddenly, he felt Leia grip his arm and her weight nearly pulled him down backward before he caught her. He turned back to see that she'd lost her footing and had one, now shoeless foot dangling off the side of the roof. Even in the dark he saw the fear in her eyes and the silent pleading for him not to let go.

He helped get her standing again, and watched her cast her other shoe aside, now walking along the roof in her bare feet in a soaked dress that just hours ago he had decided was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Now it hung on her like a bad prop in an over-the-top action holo about heroes and damsels in distress. Han didn't feel like a hero, although she was the most beautiful damsel in distress he'd ever seen. He could tell she'd already begun shivering.

Once they reached the garage Han helped lower Leia down by her arms, her dress catching on the gutters and tearing at the bottom. When he couldn't reach any lower he released her hands and she landed with a thud on her side just before he jumped down behind her. He thought about the stories she'd told of her happy childhood and the last time she'd been there, and he knew that she never in a million years would've expected to find herself escaping from rooftops like a common criminal, squinting in the cold rain in the darkness with a low-life smuggler.

As he helped her up he got a good look at her. She was shoeless; her dress was torn and soaked right through from the rain. Her hair had begun to fall and her makeup was streaked down her face, like black tears. The sight of her made him feel like someone was standing on his heart and twisting their foot as if extinguishing a fire. Without a word, he took her hand and they began to run toward the tree-covered outskirts of the property, Leia doing an astoundingly good job of keeping up, as though she had to run at top speed to escape in her bare feet all the time.

While the rain pelted his face and his breathing quickened, they reached the trees and did their best to meander around them in the darkness. The occasional flash of lightning would briefly give him some idea of where he was supposed to head, but for now he just knew he needed to get away from where they'd come from, and fast. His sole purpose centered on the person attached to the hand that he was holding tightly within his own, her grip on him just as firm in return.

Without warning, the terrain angled downward, and Han found himself tumbling forward and sliding down the muddy slope, pulling Leia down with him. Once they were stopped on level ground again, Han quickly got to his feet and pulled Leia up, his eyes drawn to the mud-covered woman in front of him. There was no time to linger, so they ran forward and let the rain begin to wash away the earth from on their skin and clothes.

He pushed through a patch of thick bushes while Leia followed behind. While the prickly limbs sticking out only caused him some discomfort through the suit material that covered his entire body, he remembered that Leia's skin was not similarly covered, and he turned back briefly to see a bit of blood beginning to trickle down fresh scratches on her arms and face.

Finally, they reached the gate that marked the edge of the property, tall, iron bars with pointed, sharp tips.

Han turned to Leia and whispered, "You first. I'll boost you up and be right behind you."

"You can't jump over that yourself," she replied with as much force as a whisper would allow. A flash of lightning revealed her blue, trembling lips.

"Just do it! I'll be right behind you."

Unlike her normal self, she didn't argue with him or reprimand him for yelling at her. Instead she put her hands on Han's lowered shoulders and stepped into his cupped hands, allowing him to lift her up high enough to grab onto the top of the fence. He didn't see much as she made her way over in the darkness, but he did hear her whimper in pain as she reached the other side and slid down.

When she landed he saw her cradling her arm as she stood up and looked back at him.

She waved her arms for him to follow. "I'll be right there," he said quietly. "Just go!"

He watched her turn to run and started scrambling on the gate, having more difficulty than he expected in the rain. He was halfway up when he heard the voice behind him.

"Don't move, Solo."

Looking over his shoulder he saw the blaster trained on his head and knew he could not escape. He jumped back to the ground and held his hands up in surrender.

"Han Solo, just the man I was looking for," the man sneered arrogantly.

With a dreadful realization, Han placed the voice and the name that belonged to it and a flash of lightning struck, illuminating his face as if in final confirmation. Roman, a bounty hunter who went by only that one name and acted as most people who go by one name will act. "How did you know I was here?" Han hissed.

"There's a whole slew of us, put a lookout for any beat up, Corellian freighters fitting your ship's description. Not many left still flying around, you know."

"Why the heat all of a sudden?"

Although Han had been complaining about the bounty on his head for three years now, the last he had heard was that the Bounty Hunter's guild had not placed a high priority on him. And for whatever sort they usually were, bounty hunters usually stuck to their code and abided by the guild. To hear that several bounty hunters had banded together and that an all out bulletin had been put on his ship was something new to him.

"_Why_? Are you high on spice, Solo? Have you heard how much bounty Jabba's waving around now? But, hell, that ain't even it, really. Word is that you're the linchpin to a much _nicer_ piece of bounty, in more ways than one." Roman leaned in towards him so that Han could see the lust in his eyes as he added, "Where is that sweet, little bonus you've been known to travel with anyway?"

Han's blood hit an immediate boil and all the ways that he would enjoy killing this man flashed through his mind. His fists clenched and he took a deep breath as he watched Roman straighten back up and smile wickedly at him.

"What's the matter, Solo-"

Before he finished his sentence Han lunged at him and the two spun around as they wrestled for his blaster. As the ground below them quickly turned into a slippery, muddy mess, the two fell to the ground. Han was larger than Roman and gained an advantage during the fall as he got a few solid punches into his gut. Roman began to fumble at his ankle while Han reached for the blaster in his outstretched hand. Unable to reach the blaster, Han turned his attention on what Roman was fumbling for on his ankle, before Han could do much of anything to stop him, Roman came up with a vibroblade and held it up against Han's throat.

As he released his grip on Roman's other wrist, Han found himself facing a vibroblade to the neck and a blaster to the face.

"Get off me!" Roman shouted as Han backed up and watched him scramble to his feet.

"Damnit to hell, I don't care if you're worth more alive than dead. It's time the universe is rid of the likes of you!" Roman spit out as Han heard the familiar click of a blaster, presumably going from stun to kill.

Han shook his head and wished he could land one more punch on Roman's arrogant face, just to wipe that damn smile off of it so it wouldn't be the last thing he ever saw in this life.

Roman's hand moved slightly and then as if watching his dreams morph into reality, Han watched as Roman's face rocked back as if Han had indeed punched him.

Spinning around, Han found Leia standing at the fence, blaster in her hand. A rage swept over him that actually scared him and he shook his head in an attempt to calm himself down. Turning his attention back to Roman's lifeless body, Han crouched over him, took his weapon and searched him for anything else. The man, Roman, who went by one name, now didn't even have a face.

Standing up, Han turned towards the fence and to Leia.

"Is he dead?" she asked, her voice trembling as she lowered her blaster.

"No," Han answered quickly as he began to scramble up the side of the fence once again. On top of everything else, he did not want her to know that she had torn a man's face off in cold blood. "You hit him in the shoulder. He's knocked out pretty good though."

Han reached the pointy tops of the iron fence as he heard her mumble down below him. "I was aiming for his head."

Not knowing which the princess would take harder, bad aim or killing a man, Han stuck with his story anyway. Nearly biting a hole in his lip to keep from crying out in pain, Han felt the sharp edge of the fence catch on his thigh as he shifted his weight across the top of the fence. A cool wave of nausea swept over him as his body responded to the torturous pain.

Jumping off and away from the fence, Han landed on his hands and knees on the other side. As he stood up he turned to find Leia. Her eyes were wide with fear. Her face was lined with tiny red scratches and a deep wound on her arm left a trail of blood down her forearm that was dripping down and in between her fingers. Her hair had fallen and it was matted with dirt and blood.

'_You deserve better than this.' _

Han took a deep breath, and let those words sink into his soul, until they spread like a virus throughout his entire being. What had he been thinking entertaining thoughts of this woman when she deserved so much more and so much better than he would ever be able to give her?

He had watched her transform in front of his eyes during their frantic trek to safety. From the warm and sensuous woman that he had tried to kiss earlier tonight, to the trembling, scared, mud-covered and blood-soaked creature that stood before him now. How could he ever forgive himself if anything happened to her, especially if it was caused by his own senseless mistakes?

"Han?" His silence must've frightened her because her voice was low and trembling.

Her voice frightened him in return and his throat closed around any words that he might have wanted to say. Grabbing her hand, he began walking away from the fence. He held her hand tight in his, like a father pulling a child to safety through a maddening crowd. A determination grew inside of him with every single step he took. Gripping her hand even tighter, he made a promise to himself that sooner rather than later he would have to let go.


	14. Chapter Fourteen  Timing

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Fourteen: Timing

As Han and Leia walked away from the Favalora mansion, Leia struggled to keep pace with the long strides of the tall Corellian. Finally pleading for him to slow down, they were now walking at a much more reasonable pace as they meandered down the deserted road in relative silence. The rain had slacked off to a steady drizzle and the absence of the occasional lightning now made everything that much darker.

They were no longer holding hands, but Han would grab her every now and then and help her through a particularly muddy spot or he would warn her to watch out for rocks or holes in the ground. They passed the houses that they had sped by on the way to the Favalora's just yesterday. Homes of her childhood friends, places that held pleasant memories of a different time and a different Leia.

There was a pain radiating from her arm, but she tried not to think about it. Between the darkness swallowing them in the night and the rain washing the blood away, she couldn't tell just how bad her wound was. Besides, the pain from her feet was doing a good job of competing for her undivided attention and the further they walked the more it felt as if her feet were going to just break off and stay behind as her shoes had done before them.

Her thoughts went back to her friend Sofie, to their conversation over dinner and to her parting words to Leia. Sofie and Griffin and more than half the galaxy lived life everyday just like the one before. They had no notion of sacrifice and loss, of death and despair. Could Sofie ever huddle up on a cold Alliance bunk and eat rations for three years? Could Sofie walk until her feet no longer wanted anything to do with her?

But this was Leia's choice. She wouldn't change anything about that. How could she sit in a guarded mansion and pretend that the Empire wasn't reigning over the galaxy in terror? That they hadn't done what they had done?

She watched Han walking ahead of her. But what of her choices with him? He had wanted to kiss her tonight, more so than any other time she could remember. He wasn't teasing, he wasn't testing her limits, he was _wanting_ her, with what seemed to be every fiber of his being. Like one tiny ripple in the middle of an ocean can cause a tidal wave on a distant shore, his gentle persistence continued to beg her to drop her boundaries. Why couldn't she? What was she afraid of?

'_You deserve better than this_.'

Leia heard her friend's parting words replay in her mind. Didn't she deserve more than she had been letting herself have? And if she let herself have nothing else, then why not this? He was here with her. He obviously wanted her. And gods, if how she felt out on that balcony was any indication, she absolutely wanted him in return. Did she really need all the answers written out for her just to enjoy something for once in her life? Was letting him kiss her an automatic assumption of love? Did it have to be? No. But it could be a _life_. It could be something mixed in with the nothing that she had become.

Han stopped walking and turned around to face her. "I think we can hail a cab now."

Glancing at the street, she realized they had reached the outskirts of town and the road had become busy with traffic. She watched as Han took his jacket off and wrapped it around her, covering her shivering arms.

"Sorry," he mumbled, as if just realizing that maybe he should of done that chivalrous move a little bit sooner.

Han stepped out to the street and hailed a hover cab. Holding the door for her, she walked towards him and slid inside. They rode in silence toward the public hangar, trying not to notice the odd looks they were receiving from the driver.

The pair went straight to the business of getting off-planet as soon as the gangway of the _Falcon_ was secure. Leia had become quite adept with the responsibilities of copilot on the old freighter. They waited for their clearance, pulled out into open space and made the jump to light speed without incident.

Han unbuckled his crash webbing and stood up. "Let's take a look at that arm."

She unbuckled herself and followed him to the med bunk. Han was a flurry of activity, gathering up bacta gel and synthflesh and dabbing antibiotic on every tiny cut or scratch on her as she sat on the med bunk and watched him in silence.

Something was bothering him; that she could tell. Was he upset that she hadn't let him kiss her? _Get over yourself, Organa_. Then what was it? Certainly he wasn't this upset over a failed Alliance mission? Of course, she felt certain now that he did care, somewhat, about the Alliance, but why would he stew over their blown cover like this? In fact, all of her thinking about Han had not even let her dwell on the fact that the mission had failed.

He worked on her arm for quite a while and had taken care of her beat up knuckles, knees and lower legs when he took a deep breath and looked at her. Taking the sterile sponge and dousing it with antibiotic he began to treat the cuts along her neck and then up to her cheek. His breath was hot against her face as he remained focused on the task at hand.

His lips were right there in front of her, closer then they had been on that balcony just hours ago. All she had to do was tilt her chin up and lean into him and that would be it. Her palms began to sweat and she felt a nervous chill shoot down her legs at the mere thought. _He's tried several times, why can't you?_

She leaned forward ever so slightly, but it felt like a parsec to her. Her eyes glued to his mouth, she licked her lips and drug her bottom lip in between her teeth. She tried to convince herself that it was just a kiss. She had kissed before. But her heart pounded in her chest as if her life was on the line. Just a little closer. She noticed his hands had stopped moving at some point and she drug her eyes up to meet his. There were greens and blues that she had never seen before and around his pupils flared flecks of oranges and yellows.

Their faces were so very close and they stared at each other as if to blink would break the spell. Her lips separated and she leaned in closer.

"I should go check the coordinates." His eyes left hers and he fumbled with the medkit for a moment, placing the supplies back in their places and then she watched him turn around and walk away.

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and shook her head. Cursing the tears that that were beginning to form, she rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. _He doesn't want this. He doesn't want you_. The inside of her chest twisted in knots as she slid off the med bunk and walked towards the captain's quarters. What was there to want, she wondered. She had done nothing but push him away and take him for granted for three years. She had made her life this Rebellion and that was that. _This_ was her life.

'_You deserve better than this_.'

She walked into Han's cabin and locked the door behind her as if she could lock out everything on the other side of it. Leaning her back against the closed door, she slid down to the floor and rested her head on her bent knees. She deserved exactly what she was getting. When had she let herself believe any differently?

For all that she had worked so hard to block out, it all came crashing around her now. She didn't want to be this person that she had let herself become. She didn't want to believe that this was all that she deserved out of life anymore. She wanted someone to look at her the way Han did, look at her like she was something to be desired and cherished and taken care of. She didn't want to be strong. She just wanted to be held. And she didn't want all these things from just anyone, she wanted them from Han.

As if tearing down the walls of one of her lies caused the entire carefully constructed facade to crumble, all of her emotions swelled to the surface unbidden; her guilt over Alderaan, the memories of her torture on the Death Star, Darth Vader, her father – everything. Just what was she fighting for? Or better yet, just what was she fighting against? And did she feel like fighting anymore?

Forcing herself to move, she stumbled into the 'fresher and cleaned herself up, dressing herself for bed before climbing into his bunk and collapsing into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning the pair had an entire day to spend together as the _Falcon_ slid through hyperspace and back toward the Alliance base on Hoth. They made it through most of the day without speaking more than ten words to each other. They said things like, '_You want kaffe_?' and '_Yes_.' And, '_You hungry_?' and '_No_.'

Leia's thoughts were no less tumultuous and painful than they were the night before, only seeing Han walking around and feeling him looking at her and smelling him as he brushed passed her, it was all so overwhelming for her – a sensory overload of sorts. She wondered what he was thinking and what motivated him when he continually walked around the lounge where she sat for no apparent reason at all, save to flip miscellaneous switches on the _Falcon_ and stare at her with a far-off look in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking.

Hadn't she tried to kiss him yesterday and he had derailed it? If she was oh-so-interesting, then why had he not taken advantage of the moment? Maybe that was it; maybe he didn't want to take advantage of her, he was tending to her wounds after all. That didn't explain his aloofness to her today, however.

She inwardly cursed herself when she found his eyes staring back at her and she dropped her gaze back down to her datapad. She had to admit that both of them were doing a fairly decent job of pretending that everything was perfectly normal between them. Han continued to fiddle around with this or that on the _Falcon_, pressing all of his ship's beloved buttons instead of hers. And she studied her datapad like it was the latest edition of 'Everything You Wanted to Know about Han Solo, and more…"

After becoming quite accustomed to the deafening silence that had loomed over her the entire day, Leia jumped at the sound of Han's voice later that evening as she sat at the holochess table reading the same entry on her datapad for the millionth time.

"We should redress that wound," he stated, standing over her with a serious expression on his face, as if he were ready to perform surgery on her.

She looked up at him and stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Then, looking back down at her datapad, she said, "It'll keep."

"It'll get infected," he replied as he walked towards her. Gently grasping her at the elbow, he said, "Let me see it."

She exhaled heavily and held her arm out while he undressed the wound.

"C'mon," he said, as he gave her arm a gentle tug.

She slid off the banquette and followed him without protest as he led her to the med bunk. She stood and looked at him when they reached the bunk, holding out her arm but refusing to hop up and take a seat. Without a word, he began to redress her wound. He was methodical and almost mechanical with his movements.

She had not wanted to sit on the bunk because of the nearness it had created yesterday, but standing next to him, she seemed to fair no better. Like a magnet, her eyes were drawn once again to his face and his lips. She watched him as he tended to her wound and she felt an urge to take all the medical supplies and throw them on the floor. Tear the bacta and the bandages out of his hands and hurl them across the room and then run her fingers through his hair and kiss him until she couldn't see straight.

"There. That oughtta do it," he said and his voice snapped her back to reality.

She opened her mouth to thank him, but she couldn't find her voice.

"You should get some rest," he said as he turned to the med kit and started repacking the supplies. "We'll be back on Hoth first thing."

She swallowed and it felt like she was swallowing her own fist, like she was pushing down all the urges trying to climb up out of her and all the words that were begging to be spoken. His back was to her now as he was placing the med kit back into its cubby.

She wanted to reach out and touch him just to see what it felt like and to see what he would do. Her head began to feel heavy and then her entire body followed suit. Her arms, legs and even her fingers were all tingling with an odd weightiness and she felt as if she might faint. Turning around slowly, she walked to his cabin almost trancelike, headed straight to his bunk and climbed in.

* * *

True to his word, the _Falcon_ was setting down on the Alliance base on Hoth first thing the next morning. With little time to talk in between contacting the base and landing the cantankerous starship and with the looming precedent of silence already set yesterday, Han and Leia barely spoke – again.

Once they had landed and the _Falcon_ had been shut down, she followed Han down the lowered gangway and they were immediately greeted by Chewbacca, which wasn't surprising to Leia in the least. It would only take a slight growth in hair on Han's part for Leia to believe that Chewie was actually Han's father, the way the Wookiee worried about the crazy Corellian.

What did surprise her were the words coming out of Han's mouth as she stood next to him and Chewie.

"Hey, buddy," Han started and then added, "I think I might need to go to the med center."

And then as if the sight of Chewie and the fact that they had made it back on base was some sort of impetus, Han suddenly appeared pale and he put his hand on Chewie's shoulder to steady himself.

Had she been so wrapped up in her own sordid thoughts that she hadn't even noticed that Han was hurt and in pain?

Staring at Han, Leia hadn't noticed anyone approach her until she felt someone gently grasping her arm. "Princess?"

She looked away from Han and Chewie and found General Rieekan staring at her.

"Yes, General?" she replied, shaking her head to reassemble her thoughts.

She watched as General Rieekan glanced over to Han, who had started walking away from them and then he looked back at her. "We'd like your debrief as soon as possible," he replied. "Are you up to it now? Or do you need to go to the med center as well?"

Shaking her head again, she replied, "No, no I'm fine." She turned to take one last look at Han walking away and then moved to walk with the General towards the High Command conference center.


	15. Chapter Fifteen  Freedom

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Fifteen: Freedom

The Rebel hangar was dark; like dusk in the countryside. There were no lights, no activities, only shadows and a frigid evening air. Off in the distance, there was a Wookiee perched at the top of the front, left mandible of the _Millennium Falcon_. A maintenance hatch swung open before him, wires and miscellaneous parts dangling out of it. Chewie was wielding a macrofuser, lighting up the massive hangar like a strobe light at a Coruscant dance club.

Inside the ship was quiet and dark; only the ambient light from its control systems competed with the blackness. Seated at the holochess table in the lounge was the ship's captain, nothing more than an eerie shadow, he sat still except for the movement of his arm each time he brought his drink up to his mouth or poured more whiskey into his glass.

Invading the ship was the sound of the Wookiee banging around outside and the smell of charred wires that the marcrofuser tortured like an Imperial prisoner. The sound of ice cubes clinking in Han's glass interrupted the silence from inside of the ship. That, and the long, deep sighs of a man that knows he has a decision to make.

He had fallen in love; there was no denying that now and that frustrated him immensely. He had not set out to fall in love. In fact, you might say that he had set out _not_ to fall in love. In his former life, when he was the person he used to be before he met her, he had relished the things that he didn't have to do. He wasn't a Rebel like she was; he didn't want to fight for freedom of galactic injustices, freedom of religion and fair taxes. No, he was an independent. He only wanted to _not_ get involved, _not_ be tied down and _not_ be responsible for anyone but himself.

It was an old pilot's saying that a bird on a leash can only fly in circles until eventually it doesn't want to fly anymore. At one time Han had thought that that would have been a fate worse than death, but that time had passed. He was ready to settle down now of his own accord; shrug his independence off like molting feathers on the wings of a falcon. People might think that she changed him, but that wasn't it. She had enlightened him and there was a big difference.

Han's eyes blinked furiously as the lights were flipped on in the lounge. Glaring up at Chewbacca, the Wookiee walked past him and grunted, [Haven't you had enough?]

"Who are you, my mother?" Han replied as he watched the Wookiee disappear towards the galley.

[If ever anybody needed one…] Chewie snorted back at Han while he exited the galley, walked towards the holochess table and sat down and poured himself some whiskey.

Han just let out a quick burst of breath and shook his head, and then he finished what was left in his glass.

[I finished with the Deflector-Shield Projector. You still want to leave?]

That was the question that Han was struggling with. There was a time when he thought he knew the answer; a time when the answer would have always been yes. But now he was divided between wants and needs. He wanted to stay; wanted to stay with every fiber of his being. But he needed to leave. Shirking responsibilities and placing himself and others in danger was never what he had wanted to do and now it was something he just couldn't tolerate anymore. Not since he had put her in danger.

Han finally answered Chewie with a defiant, "Yes, I want to leave and this time I don't want to hear any crap about it."

[Fine,] Chewie grunted back and took a swig of his whiskey. Looking over at his friend, he added, [You ever going to tell me what happened?]

"There's nothing to tell. It's time to leave, that's all. End of story."

[You want to tell me who you're hiding from in here, then?]

"I'm not hiding."

[Okay. Then what do you call what you're doing?]

He was hiding, but he would never admit it. He was hiding from a Hutt that he feared would kill him and he was hiding from a woman that would remind him why he so desperately wanted to live.

It had been three long days since they had made it back from Ord Mantell. Han had spent the first day in the med center, getting his wounded leg taken care of. Hopping that fence he had gotten a pretty nice puncture wound on his upper thigh. Never one to seek out a nursemaid, Han had tended to the wound himself only to have it get infected. But, since the only nursemaid around at that time was Leia and the wound was on his upper thigh and the whole godsdamn thing was his fault anyway - Han still wouldn't have changed a thing.

She had come to see him in the med center late that first night, probably after her debriefings were over. He had just gotten discharged and was dressing in the 'fresher, when he heard her asking questions to the physician and talking to Chewie. He lingered in the 'fresher until she excused herself and left. He had been hiding in the _Falcon_ ever since.

Han put the bottle of whiskey down on the table with a thump and scoffed, "What? Is there some kind of rule saying that I have to wander around this ice ball talking to everybody?" Picking up his glass he took a giant gulp and then said, "What's it to you, anyway?"

The deep wound in his thigh still ached but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest when he thought of her. He wanted her to want him like she had on the _Falcon_ on the way back from Ord Mantell. He wanted her to lean into him and tilt her chin up in invitation for a kiss and he wanted to accept that invitation; kiss her until she forgot about her cause and taxes and freedoms and only thought of him like he thought of her.

[There's no talking to you when you're like this,] Chewie grunted and then stood up and took his glass of whiskey with him as he walked away.

Han watched his friend walk towards the galley as he shook his head, trying to chase away the memories that had been haunting him for the last three days. For whatever the reason was, it would seem that their experience on Ord Mantell had had the opposite effect on them. While he contemplated how to tell her he had to leave, she seemed to be thinking about doing things to him that would only make him want to stay. The pain inside of him rivaled anything that he had ever felt before and the guilt crawling up his throat threatened to choke him.

Just what was this love that he felt for this woman? He ran his hand over his face and tried to make sense of it. He had fallen in love before and he had never been affected this way. But the difference was clear to him. He had fallen in love with the flesh of a woman, and that kind of love is fleeting - easy to fall into and out of and easy to get over. But this time he had fallen in love with her mind, her body and her soul. It was a different kind of love and there was nothing fleeting or easy about it.

Nothing made sense to him now. Seeing no way out of this situation, the closer he got to the bottom of his whiskey bottle, the more helpless he felt. Han did not like to feel helpless. He was a man that always had the answer that could make the impossible, possible. Yet it seemed his infamous luck had run out and the drunker he became the angrier he got at that revelation.

Han lifted his head and ran his hand across his face again. He took another swig of whiskey and then put his glass down. Looking at the nearly empty bottle, he picked it up and emptied the remainder of the whiskey into his glass. He knew she deserved better than him; better than he could ever give her on the best of days. But, damn if he could imagine another man in the universe that _would_ deserve her.

Picking up the empty whiskey bottle, he flung it across the room and watched it crash against the bulkhead. It was a symbol of his life; an empty life exploding into pieces that would never come back together to form the whole.

Han watched Chewie storm into the lounge and look down at the mess he had just made. Looking at Han, the Wookiee barked, [Feel better now?]

Han only shook his head and let out a disgusted breath of air. He wasn't looking to feel better, he was looking to not feel anything.

[He's in a mood,] Han heard Chewie growl as he looked up from the banquette and saw Leia looking down at him as she stood in the corner of the room near the entrance. He hadn't even heard her come in.

They stared at each other for awhile; the sight of her causing the anger inside of him to swell. He was disappointed in himself and furious at the way his careless decisions from his past were now coming back to haunt him. Knowing it was wrong and feebly trying to stop himself, it was just a whole lot easier to be mad at everyone else instead of continuingly beating himself up and the whiskey probably didn't help things in this matter.

"How are you?" She finally asked him.

She looked a little miffed as she walked closer to him, staring at the glass of whiskey in his hand. He guessed the fact that he kept taking long swigs from it as she watched him didn't help, either.

"I'm fine. How are you?" The sight of her was causing a maelstrom of emotions to churn up inside of him. She looked worried and angry and tired all at the same time and he wanted to hold her and erase it all for her but he couldn't and he clenched his fists in response.

Looking at her he wondered how he could ever bring himself to leave her. Looking back down at his glass of whiskey, he wondered how he could not.

"I'm fine," she replied.

Sometimes her aloof politeness cut him deeper than any of her rebuttals. He wondered if she had ever uttered a single true word to him when it came to how she felt. He clenched his jaw and downed the last of his whiskey, letting it burn its way down his throat and into the pit of his stomach.

He looked back up at her as he placed his glass back down on the table. "Well, then, everybody's fine all around. Did you hear that, Chewie?"

[Princess, you might want to come back at another time.] Chewie hooted.

"You're drunk," she said to Han as she folded her arms and shook her head in disgust.

If he wasn't drunk he'd be crazy, so she should consider herself lucky, he thought. "Give the little lady a cigar," he answered as he fell over on his side a little, catching himself with his arm and sucking in a quick breath of air from the pain in his leg.

Chewie walked towards him and helped him to sit back up.

She watched the entire display and then asked, "Why do I even bother?"

This comment shot through him and he turned his eyes to meet hers. "Well, your highness. As far as I can recall you never have _bothered_. At least not with me." He watched her shuffle uncomfortably on her feet and he continued, "Maybe you've _bothered_ with Luke. That's what I hear, anyway." When he finished he watched her mouth drop open and the color creep up her neck. The flash of anger in her eyes did nothing to quell his pain.

"Watch your mouth, Captain. You're treading on thin ice."

"Ha! Who better to know that than the infamous Ice Princess herself?"

[Han,] Chewie said his name in the universal way that someone does when they are trying to shut somebody up.

Ignoring his counterpart, his anger out of control now and her reaction spurring him on, he said, "You watch your mouth, your highnessness! This is my godsdamn ship and I'll say whatever the hell I wanna say!" He slammed his hand down on the holochess table and Chewie grabbed his arm and grunted at him. Han couldn't even tell exactly what he said this time, something along the lines of "shut up you stupid idiot".

"Fine! Enjoy your whiskey, Captain. Sorry to intrude," she huffed as she turned to leave.

"That's right. Don't forget to be sorry. You're always sorry about something!" Han yelled as she retreated out of the lounge and off of his ship.

This was how it had all started between them. He pushed her buttons and she responded; only now it wasn't fun. Now it was no longer a chase, a delicate dance between two people that found each other interesting and pretended not to notice. No, now it was raw emotions and unvoiced fears. It doesn't hurt unless you care and Han hurt so much he couldn't see straight.

Maybe it was for the best if she hated him, he thought. Maybe that would make his leaving easier on her. She certainly hadn't looked like she wanted to kiss him anymore, at least there was that.

* * *

The pain inside of Han's chest had not dulled when he awoke the next morning. No, it had only been joined by one giant headache instead. Thinking that brushing Leia off would be easier than being honest with her had not gone over as well as he imagined and the guilt crashing over him now pushed the bile further up his throat, making him nauseous. That or the bottle of whiskey he drank yesterday. It didn't really matter.

He spent the entire day trying to convince himself that it was better this way. That her hating him would make it easier on both of them. But the painful twisting inside of his soul urged him to go and see her and by the end of the day, he couldn't fight it any longer. Walking down the icy corridor towards her cabin, his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again. All the words that he yearned to say swirled through his mind furiously.

He rehearsed an apology and decided he would follow her lead. If she would only show him the slightest bit of encouragement, that she understood him, knew why he had to leave and asked him to stay or at least begged him to come back. That would be more than enough for him to buckle down and make a plan, make things happen so that he knew that he had something to fight for, something to come back to. He reached the door to her quarters and a wave of doubt washed over him. He pressed the button and a moment later her door slid open and he was still unsure of what he would actually say.


	16. Chapter Sixteen Release

A/N: First, let me apologize for how long it took for me to finish this story and thank all the readers and reviewers who have read and enjoyed it. This is probably my favorite story and I really had a hard time feeling as though I could give it the ending that I thought it deserved. But as Zyra has told me, since this 'ending' leads into ESB, it is not really an ending but a beginning anyway! Still, I don't know if I have done the story justice, but I guess you guys will let me know if I didn't! Lastly (as always) many thanks to my beta reader, Zyra. Without her I might not have ever published this story - much less finished it.

Shifting Impressions

Chapter Sixteen: Release

It wasn't him that she saw standing in front of her in the icy corridor. It was everything that would never be between them. He was a shattered dream of a life that she should've known better than to ever hope for. Maybe all this time had been an illusion, all her feelings just a childish crush. Even if he was everything that she had thought he was, it was becoming painfully clear that he would never be hers. Never did she think she would ever fall in love anyway and her heart ached at the injustice of it all. The overwhelming pain actually surprising her; she had thought that she wouldn't have had enough left of her heart for it to break again. But little had she known that, over the past three years, someone had been following quietly behind her and putting its pieces back together again. And what had been impossible, unthinkable, _unwanted_ - had happened.

"Can I help you, Captain?" There was something about his name on her lips and her name on his that prevented her from saying it. It was an ownership, an intimacy that she could literally _feel_ slipping through their fingers.

"Can I come in?"

She hesitated. Yesterday she would've worried about impropriety and what she might have allowed him to do to her behind closed doors. Today she worried the words would come to fast and too sharp if they weren't dulled by an audience. "Suit yourself." Stepping back, she allowed him to enter her room and they stood facing each other as the door slid shut.

"I came to apologize for my behavior yesterday."

"There's no need, Captain. I'm quite used to your antics by now." She felt as if she had no control over her words or her insolent attitude toward him. It was as if her only choices were to either stand defiant before him or collapse. She lifted her chin. Today was not the day that she would collapse.

Han stood in silence watching her; it was not the look of a man trying to figure something out, but of a man that had lost any idea of where he was or how he had gotten there. "Was there anything else, Captain?" She pressed.

"I was just going to…"

"Yes?"

"I never got to thank you for everything you did for me…I mean, coming back for me…on Ord Mantell."

She hesitated at his words; they were not what she had expected. After a few heartbeats, she replied, "You're welcome, Captain." She turned and walked away from him, putting some distance between them in more ways than one. As she was walking away from him, she said, "I would've done the same for any one of our operatives." And then turning back towards him she added, "You know that."

Whether it was her words or her manner, she couldn't be sure, but she recognized the change in him immediately. She watched as every single muscle beneath his skin seem to tense and the pulse point in his neck throbbed. His only visible, physical reaction was the curling of his fingers slowly into fists. This was the power that they held over each other and played with like a Rancor toying with its prey. The power to propel emotions passed their limits, to quicken a heartbeat or stop it dead in its tracks.

"Right. Well, thanks anyway," he replied evenly.

"Was that all?"

Han drew in a deep breath and held it, his fingers uncurling from their fists. As quickly as she had watched the tension seize control of his body, she watched it shed off of him like second skin. "I guess it was," he answered as he released his breath and with it, she felt as if he had released _her_.

For a terrifying moment she thought that maybe she had overplayed her hand, that maybe she should shed her coolness and break down in front of him like she so desperately wanted to. She felt her own muscles quivering at the enormity of strength it now took for her to merely remain standing in front of him. She swallowed and then her mouth fell open slightly, letting him see the silent words that she could not put a voice to, hoping by some miracle he would hear them.

His gaze traveled the length of her body as if committing it to memory. When his eyes met hers again they were soft and apologetic and her heart leapt for a brief moment. If just one of them would break - if he would only take the first step – she vowed she would meet him halfway. But then his lips pressed together into a tight line and she saw a stony mask of defeat slide over his face. He suddenly no longer looked like a man that was lost, but like a man that had just made a decision.

"I should go," he whispered.

Leia cleared her throat. Inside, her arms were reaching out for him. Inside, she was screaming for him to stay. But outwardly, she only nodded her head in resignation. "I guess so."

And with that, without so much as one more word between them, Han turned around and left her quarters.

* * *

When her door slid shut it was as if a chapter of her life had just been closed. Letting Han Solo walk away from her felt like either one of the hardest things she had ever done in her entire life or the stupidest. As corny as it sounded, it felt like a piece of her had broken off and walked away with him. She was a shell of the woman she had been just days ago on Ord Mantell. She sat down on her bunk and let the disappointment and anger slowly swell within her, filling up the cracks and crevices that had been left cold and empty inside of her.

She let her stony facade slip slowly into place and to her it felt like stepping into a warrior's armor. There was a familiar, comfortable sensation that came with it. She had been here before. This had been her salvation so many years ago when her world had literally fallen apart. It was a mixture of apathy and fortitude, where she could trudge forward brazenly as if above the folly of petty human emotion. Inside of herself she saw a woman overpowered by passion, warmth and desire and it was surprising and disheartening how easy it was for everyone else to see and believe in the cold, unfeeling persona that now, more than ever, she felt compelled to wear.

She let her body collapse onto her bunk. She was tired and weary, like so many soldiers that find they have been fighting a battle that just cannot be won, their only option being to withdraw and hope their opponents do the same. _Hope_. It was a dangerous and provocative thing and she no longer dared play with its tempting flame. She shut her eyes against the faint lighting in her quarters and against the thoughts and unspoken words that haunted her. What could've been said and what could've been done, all empty shells of a past that could never be altered. As exhaustion began to overtake her, she vowed to awaken anew tomorrow, enveloped by a whole new resolve...

* * *

It was the next day - as she stood in the makeshift command center studying a string of radar activity - that she sensed him enter. Turning towards him, their eyes met. His - searching and contrite, hers - piercing and unforgiving. He turned away from her and headed to the other side of the room and she looked back at her screen.

She heard Rieekan's voice say, "Solo?"

_The End..._


End file.
